Breakaway
by Malluchan
Summary: "I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly; though it's not easy to tell you goodbye. Make a wish, take a chance, make a change. Out of the darkness and into the sun, I won't forget the place I come from; Make a wish, take a chance, make a change, and break away." First in The Road to Home series.
1. Here comes the sun

Oh my goodness. HERE WE GO AGAIN.

I know, I know, I know. I should really be trying to concentrate on my other stories. But my muse is ignoring my plea for help and sending me totally random things like THIS story. I have to get it out. I have to.

So anyway. Here we go. Again.

The songs 'little things' and 'truly madly deeply' belong to One Direction. I'm not a directioner. But I do think these songs fit the occasion.

The song 'here comes the sun' belongs to the Beatles.

* * *

When you're expected to be a hero by those around you, but never treated like one, the thoughts of rebellion come creeping in day by day, unnoticed and unhindered. You tend to be quieter and a lot less regular. They ask you what's wrong and you always say nothing. But those thoughts are what's keeping you quiet, swimming around in your brain and threatening to boil over, until you know you have to do something or you'll lose everything you care about.

You definitely helped to save the world, you think as you look out on a rebuilt city; but nobody knows that had you not played your part, there may very well be no world left to save. They don't appreciate the little things, you think, as you stare at the building across the way and wonder when they'll finally come to terms with you.

Maybe this isn't where you were meant to be. Home is where the heart is. And your heart is not here.

* * *

Anywhere he looked the sidewalks seemed unnaturally smooth...cities that Nemesis had not touched remained flawless and happy, kids bumping over the roads on their scooters and skateboards, while he was just a regular person with a duffel bag who may have looked vaguely familiar. Did he live next door?

No, he wanted to yell, I was a regular member on team Gan Gan Galaxy. No, I work for the WBBA. No, I was there for the defeat of Nemesis. The whole time I WAS RIGHT THERE. I don't live next door.

But he never did. He'd always been the quiet one and it didn't seem like that was about to change.

Every day there was a guy at the corner of the block with an acoustic guitar. Just an ordinary guy, a busker. Navy veteran pins were attached to his collar and he didn't seem to have anywhere to go; he was there when Tsubasa went to sleep at night, and still there when he woke up in the morning, singing American pop songs softly as he strummed on the guitar. People would throw coins into the hat at his feet, and nobody seemed to bother him. On rainy days he sat at the bus stop. Nowhere to go.

He had everything he needed, but he had been a hero once too. Tsubasa wondered if they had something in common. Maybe he just needed to settle down and find his happy place for awhile, too.

* * *

He never could find his happy place.

This city was too crowded and happy to settle down in. There was always SOMETHING. Gingka bouncing off the walls in his apartment or Ryo calling him in to do some absurd job, like vacuum the water fountain. And not getting paid a red cent extra for any of it. He'd not signed up for this.

Outside, the sounds of a guitar floated through his window, weaving with the scent of cherry blossoms and fresh bread from across the street. It was warm today; the busker would not be sitting on a bus bench now.

_You can't go to bed  
Without a cup of tea  
And maybe that's the reason  
That you talk in your sleep  
And all those conversations  
Are the secrets that I keep  
Though it makes no sense to me..._

He had a nice voice, the navy man. Tsubasa didn't know where he got all those new songs. He was singing them to the wrong tune but it didn't seem to matter to anybody.

_I wont let these little things_  
_Slip out of my mouth_  
_but if it's true_  
_It's you_  
_It's you_  
_They add up to_  
_I'm in love with you_

He clipped his hair at the bottom and stepped out the door into the hallway of the little apartment building, the bamboo mat outside the door slippery beneath his feet. He didn't feel like wearing shoes, and he took the stairs.

As he stepped out into the open fall air, the melody drifted over him.

_You'll never love yourself_  
_Half as much as I love you_  
_You'll never treat yourself right darling_  
_But I want you to_  
_If I let you know_  
_That I'm here for you_  
_Maybe you'll love yourself like I love you_  
_Oh..._

He stepped down the sidewalk. In the summer this concrete would be hot enough to burn your feet if you stayed on it too long, but today it radiated a comforting warmth. Not hot or cold.

The busker slipped into a new song at random, leaving the last chorus of the melody unfinished. He was doing that thing again, where he mashed one song in with another, into a haunting, two-tone melody that didn't quite fit together but made you think all the same.

_Truly, madly, deeply I am  
Foolishly, completely falling  
And somehow you kicked all my walls in  
So baby say you'll always keep me  
Truly, madly, crazy, deeply in love with you  
In love with you,_

"Oh, hey there, son." The busker looked up at him. "Where you off to so late this morning?...Wish I could freeze this moment in a frame...uh..." he set down the guitar, having forgotten the words.

"Nevermind. Like I said, where you think you're going?"

"Uh...to school."

"I think if you was on your way to school you'd be there already. School started 3 hours ago. Besides, you ain't wearin' any shoes.

_Little darlin, it's been a long cold lonely winter..._

_nananana_

_Little darlin', it feels like years since it's been clear..._

Have a seat, son, this sidewalk's gotcher name on it."

Tsubasa settled down beside him and watched his fingers play over the strings for awhile.

_"Here comes the sun, nahnahnahnah. Here comes the sun..._Whoa boy, you sure got a frowny face there, don't you. _It's all right..._"

"No. Not really."

"Well I think you do. And I can assure you Paul McCartney would say the same thing, son. _Little darlin', I feel the ice is slowly melting..."_

"Would he now."

"Yes. _Little darlin', it feels like years since it's been here..._What's bothering you, son?"

"Nothing." Tsubasa messed awkwardly with a loose string on the bottom of his shirt.

"OH COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH. Well it seems I can't sing anymore, I have a sore throat. What's yer problem, son? You can tell me. I seen enough desolation to be able to handle yours. Might have some advice for ya."

"Honestly, I'm fine."

"So howdya come to be cross-legged with no shoes, on the sidewalk next to an old homeless geezer who's seen his share of wars, twistin' up your shirt like anybody's business?" The man set down his guitar and stared straight at him.

"I have nothing else to do."

"Kid your age? Nothing else to DO? If you're that serious about ditchin' school you'da been out fishin' under tha bridge over thar, or listenin' ta yer fancy gadgets up in yer room, or messaging someone all the way in Australia with some fancy doohickey."

"I should go now." Tsubasa started to stand but the old man stopped him.

"You tryin' ta tell me you got nobody to talk to. Lemme take a crack at guessin' yer problem, son. Nobody appreciates you."

He sat back down, defeated. "How did you know?"

"I knows heartache when I sees it. And I say, I sees it right here, son. I been in yer shoes. And I travelled the earth. And I got outta it. And man, son, man - " He chuckled softly. "Just cuz' I got no home to go to don't mean I don't know what's goin' on in this here world. Nobody else may remembers it, but I remembers. You was on the world championships, wasn't you. And they didn't pay you a hair to do it, did they. Nosiree. You got no recognition. You wasn't in the final match, so you wasn't remembered. You was havin' some real hard problems with some emotions and scarin' people, so that's all they remembers. I got it right, or I got it right?"

"You got it right."

"Lemme tell you there's gonna be days when you feel like screamin', and there's gonna be days when ya want ta yell, but don't you do it. Or this here world you saved gonna come down around you, son. And you gonna regret it more'n you could ever guess. There's gonna be days when you wanna scream but don't do it. Better ta be far away on another planet even, than hurt the ones what cares about ya. You remember that. Run away if ya have to and never come back. But sometimes it's better ta run then to take things the wrong way. I knows it, and son, I learned my lesson, and I learned it good. Now you git. Git ta school or wherever a hero like you's sposed ta be this late in the mornin'. Go on, git."

The man flapped his hands at Tsubasa. "I don't wanna see you sittin' on this sidewalk again until yer days' done and you done what yer sposed to. Git and don't come back till you done what you need to. And you'll always be welcome here. Come back and see old Les sometime."

Tsubasa nodded his thanks and stood up, walking back down the street to the apartment barefoot, feeling better equipped to face the day now.


	2. Right to go free

Tsubasa threw on a jacket as he headed outside that evening, able to feel the chill in the air, and surrendering his right to go barefoot. Under his arm was a notebook and he wondered if Les had a jacket.

Les did have his jacket, a woollen Navy one. He was singing a soft song that Tsubasa had never heard before anywhere.

_Don't you surrender your right to go free_

_There's a million things that this world can be_

_A castle, a prison, a cloud in the sky_

_Or a place to fly high,_

_fly high_

_Don't you surrender your freedom of thought_

_There's things that you are and there's things that you're not_

_But there's thousands of things you can become_

_Grit your teeth spread your wings and look up to the sun - _

"Oh, hey, son."

"Hi, Les."

"Pull uppa chair. This sidewalk ain't doin us no favours tonight."

As the sun went down, Tsubasa grabbed a couple of chairs from the cafe next door and sat down next to Les.

"How was yer day? Didja remember what I told ya?"

"Yes. I brought you this. It's to write down your songs in."

Les took the leather-covered notebook with a sense of awe, laying it across the centre of the guitar.

"Thanks, son, but these songs ain't mine."

"I know. I mean, like the one you were just singing."

Les chuckled. "That ain't mine. That's Cindy's. She's mah granddaughter and ah swear she was born a-singin'. She's meant ta be in a music school by now."

His face fell. "Instead, she's a-workin' the gen'ral store counter back in the states cause she don't have enough money ta go ta college. That's why I'mma here on this corner when ah should be retired, gittin' money fer her music. Nobody'll hire me cause I'm too old ta work proper and so ah'm makin' money fer her tha only way ah can. Music runs in tha family, nah."

"I can see that."

"Someday I'mma gonna collect 'nough money ta get her through a fine arts academy and then I'll be able ta die in peace. She'll have her future out fer her and I'll have fulfilled mah big purpose in life, an' it's a-gonna be soon that ah gits enough money. I'mma nearly there."

"That's a noble purpose, Les. But you're not going to die anytime soon."

Les shrugged. "Gonna happen to one o' us sooner or later. If it ain't me, it'll be you, or the guy next door or your nephew or my great-aunt. Come to think of it, she's dead already. Nevermind."

Tsubasa laughed softly as the last of the sunset disintegrated over Metal City, and looked up into the stars, tracing the familiar symbol of Gingka's pegasus. The legendary blader of autumn had his brand across the sky now, always reminding Tsubasa that he had been the one who got the title of hero...

He shook the angry thoughts from his head and asked Les if he had a place to sleep.

Les laughed. "Don'tcha go losin' no sleep over me, son. Ah've got ma path set fer me and ah'm okay with lodgin's fer now. Not that I ever go there no more. Don't know when was the last time I slept. I don't sleeps much nohow. Ya better be gettin' home. Ah reckon tomorrow's gonna be a big day fer you anyhow."

"How do you figure that?"

"Don't know. Just it's a busy day fer mosta tha world so it might's well be one fer you too."

"I see your point."

As Tsubasa rose and walked back to his apartment, Les called after him, "Ya need a song ta cheer ya up or just somebody ta talks to, I'm herer most'the time. Jus' come see me and, uh, no stealin' mah business. This here's mah street corner, not yers."


	3. Sunrise

Hey! Id any of you read Summer of Dragons, I'm posting up a track you can listen to while you read each chapter. I'm starting with this story too. All the tracks can probably be found on YouTube easily.

Today's track: Sunrise, from the album Solace, by Doug Hammer

* * *

As he crossed the street the next morning, one earbud dangling loose at his side across his pocket, he zipped his jacket up tighter around him and watched his breath fog before his face. It was cold today.

He'd been out early this morning, so early that Les was not at the street corner when he left. He must've surrendered his sleeplessness and gone back to his apartment. Perhaps it had grown too chilly for him.

He was walking back to the apartment from the WBBA offices; Ryo had forgotten to come to work today and the whole building was under shutdown. It annoyed him to no end that his boss was so forgetful - oftentimes his rent was long overdue before Ryo remembered to pay him. His boss lacked respect for his employees and organisational skills. Tsubasa narrowed his eyes in distaste and pressed the shuffle button on his MP3, trying to swallow his annoyance.

Suddenly a bad chord cut through the song and he ripped the earbud out of his ear, wincing at the unpleasant sound, before realising it was Les on the corner with his guitar.

_Ladybug, Ladybug, fly away home,_

_Home to the place where I wish I'd have gone,_

_And if you see my darling, tell her I miss her..._"Uhh...OHH! Ah cain't remember tha words no more!...Hey, son. Whatcha doin comin' this-away? Ah never saw ya leave. And Ah sees about ever'one what leaves this here buildin'."

"I left really early this morning. You weren't here."

"Wadn't here? You sure? Ah been here since 'bout 5:30."

"Huh. I didn't see you."

"Oh, well. Yer here now. Where ya been to already? Work'n back so early? Ah thought it was gonna be a busy day fer you today."

"I guess not, Les. Building's on shutdown because my BOSS forgot to come to work, so nobody could unlock the doors!"

"Easy, son. Ever'one forgets sometimes."

"Not just sometimes. He never pays me on time and disappears or sleeps during a workday! He's supposed to be the boss, for goodness' sake!"

"Getcher act together and quit makin' a scene, boy. Siddown and tell me what's happenin' without gittin' in the world's face."

Tsubasa took a few deep breaths and sat down, his hair falling around his shoulders. He'd not noticed that the clip'd fallen out.

"I'm just having a lot of trouble at work right now. I shouldn't lay my burdens on you. You've got enough of your own to worry about."

Les clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Son, ah've moved past the age wher ah worry 'bout mahself. I've got nothin' ta worry 'bout. Ah'm on a fixed retirement income so ah get mah bills paid all right. Ah don't eat much so ah don't buy much. And ah'm layin' up a future fer mah granddaughter. Ah've got all ah need, so what else do ah have left in tha world but ta help other people? That's the way ah sees it anyway."

"Well...okay. I just don't feel like my boss appreciates me very much. He has no idea how much cleaning up I have to do after him to keep the WBBA up and running; it's like I run the whole place myself."

"Hmm. Well, do ya run it well?"

"I...I think so."

"Does anybody help ya?"

"There's Hikaru. She's the secretary."

"That's good. Why do ya go cleanin' up after 'im all tha time? If he's tha boss, why don't he shape 'imself up?"

"Because I...I don't want to see the WBBA fall down."

"Huh, so it ain't that ya just want ta get noticed?"

"N-no. I don't anyhow."

"Then whatcha complainin' fer, boy? Yer doin' somethin fer a good cause because ya care. It's yer choice. If ya don't want ta do it, ya wouldn't be doin' it. So quitcher gripin. Do ya see mah point, son?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Things gettin' any better with yer friends?"

"No, not really."

"Well ya got me."

"In that sense, I guess things have improved."

Les made a satisfied noise and told Tsubasa to get chairs again. The sidewalk was freezing them through their clothes.

The sun rose a little higher as Les sang and Tsubasa listened, the MP3 player forgotten and slowly draining battery in his pocket. Through song after song they sat side by side at the curb; however, the rising sun did almost nothing for the cold. It was very, very cold.

A small figure appeared a few blocks down, half-running and half skipping, flame-yellow hair bobbing along above him. As it got closer, Tsubasa could see out of the corner of his eye that it was Yuu, but did not really register it until the little boy was gazing up at him urgently as he tugged on the sleeve of his jacket.

"Tsubasa! TSUBASA! HEY! WAKE UP!" Tsubasa blinked several times and looked down at him. "Sorry. I was thinking about something else."

"Obviously. WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL DAY?"

"What do you mean, where have I been all day?"

"Ryuusei's at work and he sent Gingky to come find you because you weren't there, and Gingky and Kenchi and me teamed up to find you because you weren't at your apartment - " he paused for a breath. "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?"

"I got to work early this morning and Ryo wasn't there. He's the one who went AWOL."

"He was there, right at seven."

"We're supposed to be there by 6:30! What is he talking about?"

"I don't know, Tsubasa. The schedule on the wall says you have to be there at 7."

"As of when?"

"As of midnight last night! You should have been paying attention!"

"I left work at 5, little boy! How was I supposed to know?"

"In any case, get back or Ryo says he won't pay you this month."

"Like he would", Tsubasa muttered. "Okay, okay, I'm going."

"Good luck, son", Les said softly. "Ah hope ya have a better day today."

"That isn't likely to happen."

With thins, Tsubasa stormed off down the street, not bothering to pick up his hair clip off the concrete, and definitely not anticipating the day ahead.


	4. Sudden Inspiration

Track for this chapter:

Sudden inspiration, by Jim Brickman, from the album By Heart

* * *

Les was still on the street corner at dusk as Tsubasa stormed home from work, his tangled hair flying around him. His hair clip was not on the sidewalk anymore; probably it had been stolen.

"Ah take it yer day was'n as nice as you'da hoped, huh."

"I told you so." Tsubasa stomped away from Les, who grabbed the sleeve of his jacket indignantly.

"Hang on a second. Ya better siddown and cool off fer awhile."

"I don't need your help, Les."

With surprising strength, Les swung him around by the sleeve and plopped him down on the sidewalk, leaning over him.

"Lissen, son, if ya don't lissen ta what ah says tanight ya gonna say somethin' ta sombody ya gonna regret. It better be me then anyone else cos' ah won't take it personal and ah ain't gonna have ya runnin' off an' ruinin' yer own life."

Tsubasa shrank under his gaze.

"That's a-better. Tell me what happened."

So he relayed the low-lights of his day, from cold coffee to extended hours to broken elevators and reduced lunch breaks. "Ryo's changed the schedule up in the middle of the night and I can't work on these hours. I'm going to die."

"Sure ye are. Jus' probly not yet. Nah hear me out, son. That girl Hikaru? Wazzat 'er name? Ya better talk te her 'bout gittin' yer boss under control cos ah ain't gonna see ye comin' home like this, yer gonna gitcher temper outta wack onea these days an' say somethin' ya shouldn't an' you's a-gonna regret it."

"Okay."

Les leaned back. "Ya goin' anywhere fer winter vacation?"

"If we get one. Ryo claims he's taking us all to New York."

"That's a good place if ther ever was one. Ye can sure let off some steam in all that snow'n light."

"I hope so." Tsubasa sighed and leaned forward, hugging his knees and watching his breath cloud before him.

"Les, have you ever run away from home?"

"Run'way from home? Whatcha ask me that fer? Ya thinkin' bout it?"

Tsubasa stammered softly at such outright exposure. "I-I...it crosses my mind sometimes. Just to get away."

"Huh. Well every young man oughta run'way from home once'n his life. It helps ya and sometimes yer better off far away then close up cos' ye can't say somethin' ye'll regret."

"Oh. Well I sometimes think it would be nice to just be someone else for awhile."

Les strummed a few chords and said, "No. Ye don't become someone else, son. Yer jus' steppin' inta someone else's shoes for a lil' time, like takin' a vacation. Ya always wanna be able ta have somethin' ta come back to. An identity. An' ah don't think yer talkin' bout runnin' off fer good, are ye?"

"Well..."

"No, no, no, son, yer doin' it all wrong. If yer gonna run 'way ya gotta do it proper. Ya got a lot here ta be thankful fer, even if ya don't realise it yet. Ya got that lil' kid what adores ya so much, ah could see it in 'is eyes. 'E looks up ta ya, son, and what'd he do without ya? No hero no more. And if ya decide ya miss it here and didn't leave ya nothin' ta come back to but ruins, well, yer in a pit thar, ain't ya?"

"I guess I see what you're saying."

"Sure ya do. Jus' not yet." Les stroked his chin and hummed something for a moment.

"Ya gotta take a lil' money out tha bank 'n go somewheres where ya can't end up back here if ya git turned 'round. Then ya go on foot or on bus or as far's yer money'll take ya. Ya look 'round, see where ya ended up, and if yer homesick already, ya call a friend ta come git ya. Ya got friends what cares 'bout ya so ye can git this plan a-workin'. If ya not ready ta go back, ya gotta git a job an' stay put awhile. And if ya decide ya wanna make a new life there, ya got it, but ah don't recommend that."

"Okay. But I don't know about that part where the friend comes and gets me. They're all too busy."

"Don't you go sayin' that! Ah knows they loves ya, ya just don't see. They loves ya in their own way'n they'll grow up'n time. You'll see. An' ya can always call me an' then ah'll send ya ta go live wit Cindy in tha country. It'll be good for ya."

"Do you really think I should make a break for it?"

"Go if ya think ya should, son. If it stops ya from hurtin those round ya, ya gotta do it. That's what they call the agape love. When ya do what's bett'r fer everyone ya cares bout. Ah know you's mad right now, but in yer heart, that's where ah knows it. Ya don't wanna hurt these people, do ya, son?"

"No, sir, I guess not."

"You oughta git ta see the world. Go grow up a lil'. It'll teach ya a lot that ya need ta know. You'll a-see. You'll be glad ya went on this lil' trip of 'nlightenment. An' when ya ready ta come back here, home'll be waitin' fer ya where it always was. Ya know ya got a supporter right here on this street corner."

"It's you, right?"

"NO, it's that guy right over thar." Les pointed to a dead mouse in the gutter. "He agrees wit' everything ya say."

Tsubasa chuckled at Les's joke and stood to go.

"Hold on a second, son. Ah have somethin' fer ya." Les dug through his pockets and pressed something into Tsubasa's palm in the dark, curling his fingers around it. Cold and metal and round. "Ya gonna need this, son. This er a hairbrush."

Tsubasa thanked Les and rounded the corner. In the light of the doorway, he saw that Les had found his hair clip. Smiling to himself, he pulled off his jacket and went to bed. There was one ray of sunlight in his life after all.


	5. My heart will go on

Track for this chapter:

My Heart Will Go On, by Daniel Kobialka, from the album World on a String

By the way, there's a link on my profile to a YouTube playlist which has all the tracks on it from my stories. Enjoy.

* * *

Back to the sun streaming through the window and eyes focused on the candle before him, mesmerised and momentarily distracted, Tsubasa did not hear when the music on the corner stopped.

Nor did his mind register when Les's voice downstairs, yelling at the apartment bellboy, echoed up the steps.

Nor did he hear Les's boots coming up those same steps.

Only was his mind taken from the flickering flame when Les's pounding on his door became unbearable, shaking the flimsy apartment walls, and he jumped up to open the door, wondering whom it might be.

Les stormed into his apartment, knocking him backwards onto the couch, his eyes wild and arms flailing. "TSUBASA!" He turned to see the aforementioned (and admittedly terrified) boy sprawled across the couch, wide-eyed in surprised.

"Thank goodness. There ye are, boy, I thought you'da hightailed it or burnt yerself on that stove thar er somethin' when ye didn't come down ta the street corner this mornin. I went all 'round town lookin' fer ya cause ah never saw ye today."

"Oh, well, that's awfully thoughtful of you, Les, but - " Tsubasa sat up, rubbing his abused head where it had made contact with the couch arm a bit too hard. "I just decided to take a day off."

Les gave him a funny look.

"Day off? I thought you were runnin' tha company on yer own lately. Wha would ya take a day off?"

"I just...needed it, I guess."

"Day off, huh. DAY OFF! What were ya thinkin'? Didja even tell anybody you was takin' a day off? A-cos' there's tonsa people runnin' around tha city shoutin' yer name, and nobody ain't seen ya all mornin'!"

"Oh."

" 'Oh'? Is that all ya hafta say fer yerself? Look, son, ah know you's had a hard time've things lately, butchee can't just run off like that. People's gonna git worried an' that lil' yellow-haired boy's been cryin' imself ta death cos 'e don't know where ye are. First off, go tell 'im you ain't gone'n left 'im. Second, GIT BACK TA WORK. That comp'ny's goin' grazy without chee. Boss's asleep'n the secretary don't know what ta do."

"Well...all right."

"Make ye a deal. Ah got good people skills. If ya go back ta work and don't pull nothin' like that no more, ah'll speak ta yer boss 'bout uppin' 'is act, kay?"

"It's a deal."

So Les and Tsubasa walked side by side to the WBBA building, bumping into Yuu on the way. He fell into step beside them, babbling tearfully with worry, and was soon comforted by Les.

Finally they reached the building and Tsubasa opened the doors to total chaos.

The desk was turned over and Hikaru was on the phone, babbling hastily, her words slipping out and making no sense. Other agents rushed around, told one thing by somebody and the opposite by someone else, pushed back and forth and in and out.

Les stuck his fingers in his mouth and emitted a screeching whistle, then yelled, "EVERYBODY BE QUIET!"

At least 25 stunned agents turned towards the door, suits once pressed but now rumpled, hair uncombed. Tsubasa calmly walked over to Hikaru and took the phone from her, ending the call, and then turned back to the room full of people. But before he could say anything, Les stepped forward.

"Allaya git ta whatever fancy conf'rence room ye got nowadays in this buildin'. Ya gonna hafta wait thar awhile. And, uh..." Here he surveyed the agents' frazzled state. "Make a pass 'round te the restrooms on tha way. Yer hair look like it's gone through a tornado."

Slowly the agents filed through the halls, grateful to have someone in charge again. Tsubasa and Les helped Hikaru with the desk, and then Les looked around.

"Ye got any eskylavators here?"

"Elevators. Right there."

"Take me ta yer leader, son."

Tsubasa pressed the button for the top floor, feeling nervous. What was Les about to do?

Sure as day, Ryo slumped at the desk in his office, mouth wide open and snoring loudly. Behind Les, Hikaru shook her head at Tsubasa. Yuu bounced on one of the chair cushions impatiently and Les looked around for something.

Finding a lamp shade handy, he separated it from the lamp and shouted through it loudly into Ryo's ear.

"SEE HERE NAH! YOU WAKE UP THIS INSTANT!"

Ryo jumped out of the chair, landing without grace on the floor. Yuu burst out laughing and Tsubasa shushed him with a quiet look.

Ryo squinted up at Les. "Who on earth are you and what are you doing in my office?" He got to his feet, towering his full height over Les.

Les was unfazed.

"Ah think tha question ta be asked here is, whatcha think YOU'RE doin in yer office? Ya got any idea whatcher front lobby looks like right nah? Like a tornado site, that's what."

Ryo looked towards the elevator. "Who is this guy?"

"Fergit that. It cain't even pass fer a tornado site! Ye done used yer office as a bedroom - an UGLY bedroom - and left yer secretary ta handle the company 'erself!"

"Now see here - "

"YOU see here, ya hooligan! You ain't takin' care o' tha people what works under ye! How's that fer labour management? It ain't! It jus' plain ain't. Siddown, ah ain't finished wit you yet. Dontche know ya left yer top agent te run yer company while yer secretary sits at the desk and wonders if "I don't know what I'm doin' wit mah life" counts as professional?"

"I - "

"No talkin' from ye. That's whatche call a rhetorical question, son", he added to Tsubasa. "You thrown away the biggest beyblade organisation in tha world and left an 18 year old and a 15 year old ta deal wit' it themselves. You ain't a boss. Yer a piece a' frunitcher. Stained-up frunitcher what needs ta rethink its life."

He stepped back towards Tsubasa. "Stop me before ah go too far. Ah think ah made mah point."

The flustered Ryo raised his eyebrows at Les and Les flashed him a holey grin and stepped into the elevator. You could hear him yelling "DING! DING! DING!" as it passed floor after floor. All the way down.

At last Ryo tore his eyes away from the elevator and focused on Tsubasa. "What was that all about?"

"Uh...don't pay attention to him. Ever."

Hikaru stepped forward, fuming. "I think he's right. I quit. That aside, there's a conference room full of agents that you should probably go sort out."

"You can't quit! You're fired!"

"You can't fire me, I already quit!"

"But you can't quit, I just said you're - "

"QUIET!"

Tsubasa found that Les's lampshade method worked quite satisfactorily.

Hikaru took off her WBBA badge and threw it out the window, kicked off her heels and jacket, and ran from the room down the fire exit.

Tsubasa wished he had the nerve to quit. But he had nowhere else to go.


	6. Picture Me

Track for this chapter: Picture Me, by Yiruma, from the album Piano Museum

(Yiruma is my hero :3)

* * *

One week later found Tsubasa manning the front desk.

He stared forlornly at the paper-yellow marble. His arm had a red mark on it from leaning it on the corner of the counter all morning.

Nothing had happened.

Last week was almost preferable to this monotony.

Until, close to lunchtime, the doors slammed open and Les marched in, speaking in hushed tones to the person beside him. Tsubasa recognized her immediately as Hikaru Hasama.

Her shirt was rumpled and she wore no shoes, but it was the secretary beloved by all the WBBA agents. She was back to fix the madness.

Tsubasa picked up the intercom and said, "Sir? Hikaru's in the front lobby."

"Tell her to go away."

"Les is with her."

"I'll be right down. Call security." A click signified Ryo's departure. Tsubasa did not call security.

Les came over to the desk while Hikaru stood in the lobby, facing the elevators, waiting for Ryo to come downstairs.

"Hey, son. Ah found yer secretary."

"Thanks. It's crazy here."

"Ah know, son, ah know. Ah wish ye luck, okay? There's gonna be a lotta hullabaloo round these parts fer a long long time."

"It's nothing new, Les."

"Huh", Les grunted. "Well yer jus' gonna hafta deal."

"That's not comforting."

Les slapped his hands down onto the counter. He seemed to do this a lot. "Ah never said it was gonna be comforting, boy! Ah'm jus' givin' ya the straight gist o' life!"

"You're doing a very good job", Tsubasa reassured him.

Les leaned in angrily. "Don't git cranky wit' me, son. Ah ain't tha worst thing ya gonna hafta deal wit."

Tsubasa glared at the wall behind Les's head. Seemed that everyone had turned against him all of a sudden.

Ryo emerged from the elevator, glaring icily out at the room. It actually looked more like he was a vulture in pain. He hadn't quite got the commanding star down yet.

"Hikaru. I see you have returned begging for my mercy."

"You're the one who was begging for my mercy."

"Says who?"

"Says me and the hundred messages on my phone."

Ryo slumped. "Okay, fine, Hikaru. I'll give you your job back. But you had better shape up."

"Nah lissen here!" Tsubasa quickly shoved Les under the counter before he could get hold of a lampshade. His muffled grumblings came still from under the ugly countertop.

"But, Hikaru, you can't have your shoes yet...Tsubasa...broke them. So."

Hikaru glared at Tsubasa, who stuttered in protest. It had totally been Gingka. Everyone had seen him prancing around his father's office with the high heels on, but he had proved to be too heavy for them and broke them. But Hikaru was not listening. She shoved him out from behind the desk and Les scrambled away.

"Angry female in tha buildin'! Ye better run, sons!" Les hightailed it out the door and Tsubasa watched him go, feeling as if his last ounce of sanity and hope had run out the door with him and down the street. Singing 'here we go round the mulberry bush' as it went, no less.

He turned from Les's ambling, guitar-laden figure to find Hikaru glaring up at him.

"Those shoes cost me a month's worth of pay."

"But I didn't - "

"Be quiet and get out from behind my desk."

Tsubasa quickly moved away.

* * *

Around him, the green-tinged, chapped porcelain walls of the last stall in the bathroom were unforgiving, staring out at him in all their cold, hard blankness. He lay his head on his knees and shut his eyes.

6 years ago, when he was 12, he had come here to this city from a nondescript village. He had wanted to escape from a broken home and make a name for himself. Be something freer, bigger, better, and more productive, to do his mother's memory proud.

It seemed that everything was turning against him now.

He was being bossed around by a secretary, 'overseen' by an irresponsible boss, and given life advice by a retired navy man who was probably...not all there.

He felt guilty for these thoughts, however, when said navy man padded into the men's restroom, dragging his guitar behind him. Tsubasa made certain that his knees were pulled up all the way on the closed toilet seat, held his breath, and hoped that Les would not find him.

"Son? You in there?"

Hope was lost. It had gone down the street with Les yesterday and never come back.

"Son, the agency's 'bout ta shut down fer tha night. Ye need ta git out 'r else they's gonna shut ye in."

"I might as well stay here", he said. "I basically live here anyway. I'll probably die here too."

"Nah, son...ye been cryin', hain't ya? Ah hears ye snifflin'."

"I, uh. It was...onions."

"Ye decided ta eat yer onions in the bathroom stall. Like ah believe that. Ah'm old, but ah ain't a IDIOT."

"I...it's quieter to eat lunch in here. Without Hikaru."

"Ah. Women'll do anythin' over shoes, son, and ye shoulda known that 'fore ye went wearin' hers te the royal ball."

"IT WASN'T ME. It was the director's son. FOR THE LAST TIME."

"Okay, okay! Besides that, it's way to late ta be eatin' lunch."

"Les..."

"Don' worry 'bout it, 'kay? They say 'Ah hates ta see a grown man cry', but it's actually kinda fun. Also, it ain't no shame ta cry sometimes. All men cries sometime in ther lives. An' yer depressed 'bout yer life, son, so don' be ashamed."

"You aren't helping, Les."

"Son, ye know, ain't nothin' like a song on a starry night ta clear yer mind an' ease yer tears. Come on outta there an' let's gitcher mind settled so ye ain't goin' ta bed wit' a troubled heart."

"Music doesn't cure everything, you know."

Les shifted his weight outside the stall, and Tsubasa imagined him putting his hands on his hips and glaring at the door.

"Tell me one reason how it don't."

"You have to have a lot of people and effort to fix a problem."

"But ye gotta have a clear mind first. Dontche?"

Tsubasa said nothing.

"Tell ye what. Folla me an' ye'll see something'll clear yer head, fer sure."

"I don't feel like it."

"Come on. Not everyone gits ta go te the November bonfires, son."

Tsubasa's curiosity was peaked.

"I guess I'll go this one time. But if it doesn't work, you have to leave me alone the next time you find me in a bathroom stall."

"With yer pet onion."

"Yeah. Sure."

10 minutes later, Tsubasa was hanging on to the interior of his car for his very life. Les, mitten-clad and hungry-eyed, was trying (and failing) to remember how to drive, and the car veered and swerved so that Tsubasa would have felt safer in a burning building then he did here.

As they neared the edge of the city, a soft crown of flame became visible at the tops of the trees, small puffs of smoke rising between their leaves. Les pulled up to a row of logs and they stepped out.

Tsubasa was immediately glad for his wool jacket as the cold air bit hard at his exposed face, and he pulled his hat down further over his brow. Les pushed it up.

"See here nah. You ain't gonna be able ta see if ye git yer hat down like that, nah."

Tsubasa glared at him and followed him over to a table. Open bags of marshmallows lined it, a small pile of sharpened sticks dominating the end, and cups of steaming hot chocolate sat on the other end. Kids ran in between the towering bonfires, chasing dogs and each other, or throwing sticks and leaves into the flames, while the adults sat on logs around the fires, roasting marshmallows and chatting.

Les carried his guitar over to a log and started to talk with his neighbouring bonfire lover. He stuck his marshmallow-laden stick into the flames and carried on a conversation at the same time.

"Hey, Donnie."

"Hey, Les. Whatcha doin'?"

"Aww, jus' bringin' mah friend te the bonfires fer tha first time."

"No way. That him?" Donnie jerked a thumb in Tsubasa's direction.

"Yeah, that's him."

Tsubasa made no comment. If people wanted to pretend he wasn't there, he would too. It would just be better that way.

Les waved a gooey, blackened marshmallow in his face. "Have this, son. It'll cheer ye up."

"I don't want to."

"But ye look a lil' pale. Ye sure ye don't need some sugar te get yer system goin'? Onions cain't be that good for ye if ye still feelin' puny."

"I fell fine. This is seriously my normal skin colour."

"Nuh-uh it ain't. I lived outside yer apartment since 'fore ye moved thar and ye never looked so pale before. EAT IT. A-COS AH SAID SO, SON."

Finally Tsubasa gingerly took the marshmallow off the stick. It began to get dark, and secretly he was thankful for the sweet (albeit slightly burnt), sugary warmth in his mouth.

Les strummed downwards across his guitar a few times as he and Donnie continued their friendly chat. A couple of kids came up and, seeing that Donnie and Les were occupied, turned on Tsubasa instead.

"Hey mister, do you know how to roast marshmallows?" said the first little girl, holding out her stick.

"Not...not really."

"I didn't think so. EVERYBODY roasts marshmallows at the November bonfires. Don't you know that?"

"I - "

"Lemme show you." She plopped down on the log beside Tsubasa, uninvited, her sweater bunching up around her waist. "My name's Hazel. Who are you?"

"I'm Tsubasa."

"Do you have a occupation?"

"Uh...I work at the WBBA. Why do you ask so many questions?"

"Here." Rather than answer, Hazel put a marshmallow stick in his hands. "You put it in the fire like this. NO, NO! Not on the coals! It'll get all ashy and gross!"

She wrinkled her nose at her comrades. "He doesn't know how to roast a marshmallow, Ross."

"I bet he's, like, 11. He's supposed to know by now! 11 is pract'icly grown up! You're supposed to know everything!"

"See here now, I'm 18!"

"Even worse. Ya drop outta high school or what? What they teachin' the kids in schools these days, huh, Hazel?"

"You betcha."

"See here", Les intervened. "Hazel, Ross, Hunter, Miles. Dontchee go insultin' yer superiors. No, he din't drop outta high school, and no, he ain't eleven. He knows a whole lot more'n you do."

"Yes, sir", said the cluster of kids.

Les turned back to Donnie and Hazel took the stick from Tsubasa, feeding another marshmallow onto it. "Try it again. Dis time don't put it so much down."

Tsubasa rolled his eyes and puffed loudly, watching his breath fog in the chilly air. Miles put a cup of cocoa beside him on the log and Hazel stared intently at the flames.

"Wait, WAIT! Tsubasa, IT'S ON FIRE! BLOW IT OUT BLOW IT OUT!"

He yanked the marshmallow from the flames and ended up dropping it. Hunter snuffed it out with his feet and Hazel glared at him. "Well, dere goes another one, Mr. Protege."

"See here."

"Don' say that again. Les is better at it than you", Ross said.

"Now see here - "

"Nah see here." Les once again intervened. "Ah am better at it than you, son, an' you know it. See here. You kids git if you ain't gon' be nice. This here young fella's had a hard day. And - "

"Les, I haven't had a - "

"Nah SEE HERE. QUIT interruptin' me. And ye better, as I was sayin, be consid'rate!"

Miles, Hunter, Ross, and Hazel dolefully gazed up at Les. "Yes, sir."

"Nah Donnie, what che was sayin' bout yer field tractor..." Tsubasa turned his attention away from Les.

"I'm done roasting marshmallows for the night."

"No you not. You haven't got one right yet." Hazel and Ross wrestled another marshmallow onto the stick and handed it back to him. He grimaced at the ball of sugar and stuck it back in the flames.

This time he blew out the marshmallow without dropping it. "Are you satisfied?"

"Roast me one", said Miles, handing him another.

"But - "

Thank goodness for Les.

Three downbeats of the guitar and all around the fire people went silent.

As the tune picked up, so did the voices. Les's lone one turned into a symphony.

_What I wouldn't do for a hat's worth of freedom_

_Fire on a chilly night,_

_Stars above shining bright_

_What I wouldn't give for a grass - laden forest_

_Family all around and a song for the sky._

_Take me away_

_Song for November_

_Remind me of who I love_

_Cherish_

_And long for_

_Take me away_

_Skies of November_

_Fly me away to how it was long ago._

A short instrumental solo for a few beats, and then:

_Once upon a time I was free_

_I was dreaming_

_Anything that ever was was waiting there for me,_

_I ran to a city_

_A city full of freedom_

_Wanting to see who I could be_

_Take me away, Starry skies above me_

_Take me to the man of dreams I used to think I was_

_Fly me away_

_Heart of November_

_Back when I was innocent and open._

The song seemed to speak to him, and he thought of how he'd come to this city to start over. Heart full of hope and bounce in his step, melted away now.

_But what I wouldn't give for a hat's worth of freedom_

_What I wouldn't give for open chilly air_

_Take me away_

_Stars of November_

_No matter what the cost may be_

_I need to go back there._

_Take me away_

_Fire blooming higher_

_Take me away to the forest that I know_

_Take me away_

_Starry sky above me_

_Song all around me_

_I feel like I'm back home._

The song ended and Tsubasa found himself staring into the flames to avoid having to see the tear trailing down Les's cheek. Hazel was asleep beside him and Miles had eaten his marshmallow raw sometime during the last chorus. Ross and Hunter leaned back behind him so the three of them were back to back, and Miles was swaying on his feet, tired.

He checked his cell phone. 10 o' clock.

As he drove home that night, dropping Les off at the corner, with a belly full of marshmallows and a song in his head, Les's words rang through his mind:

"Tell me how music cain't cure anything."

He found that he had no answer anymore.

Not just to that question, though. He had no answer for anything anymore.


	7. Silver Line

Track for this chapter:

Silver Line, by Yiruma, from the album Stay In Memory

* * *

"...Well YOU'RE a HORRIBLE SECRETARY!"

"WELL YOU'RE A HORRIBLE AGENT!"

"WELL YOU'RE A HORRIBLE FRIEND!"

"RYO'S A HORRIBLE BOSS!"

"IT'S NOT MY FAULT! YOU SLAPPED ME!"

"IT'S YOUR FAULT FOR BEING SO...SLAPPABLE ALL THE TIME!"

"YOU ACT LIKE A GIRL!"

"I AM A GIRL!"

"NO, YOU'RE A LION!"

"YOU'RE A LION!"

"NO, YOU ARE A LION! I SAID IT FIRST!"

"YOU'RE A LION!"

"NO, YOU ARE THE LION HERE!"

"NO, KYOUYA'S A LION!"

"THEN WHY DID YOU BRING UP LIONS IN THE FIRST PLACE!"

"YOU'RE THE ONE WHO BROUGHT IT UP!"

"I QUIT!"

"GOOD!"

"FINE."

Tsubasa stormed down the staircase and away from Hikaru, though he knew very well that he could not quit.

But somebody snagged his collar as he walked out the door.

"LET GO OF ME, LES!" he yelled. Les slapped him into silence, stunning him into sanity. They stared at each other for a moment.

"I'd say ah'm sorreh, but ah ain't. Ye needed that."

"What do you want?"

"You yellin' at that secretary again, ain't ye boy."

"It's her fault. She's a lion."

"I thought Kyouya was the lion."

"You don't even know Kyouya."

"How deh ye know? I might know yer dad, fer all ye know. Ah don't, but still." Les grabbed the collar of Tsubasa's jacket and dragged him into the building, to where a shadowy alcove caved in to meet the darkness.

"Wait here." Les walked away down the corridor and Tsubasa was left alone to stew in the shadows.

A few moments later, he walked back down the hall with Hikaru beside him. She looked angry. Tsubasa glared at her and she glared back.

"Nah lissen here", Les said sternly to Tsubasa. "Give yer seat te the lady."

Tsubasa grudgingly gave up his seat. Hikaru took it angrily. Everything they had done for the past week was done angrily, it seemed.

Les took Hikaru and Tsubasa's hands in each of his (presumably so they would not slap each other), and looked them each in the eyes hauntingly, as if this mattered, and this alone. In the dark alcove it was easy to believe that nothing existed outside the confines of its tapered arch, and time had flowed past them and left them in this one moment for a time.

Les drew them closer together and began to speak softly. "Lissen here.

"This compny's fallin' apart, an' ah know you's both been real real fed up wit it lately. Ah know ye feel like they's pushin' a weight on you that ain't yers ta bear, an' they's expectin' too much 'o ya to be fair. Yer right. They are.

"But neh matter hah ye figure it, ye got this weight an' it ain't liftin'. Ah know yer tired an' ah know yer fed up, but look on tha bright side: ye don't hafta bear tha weight alone. Ye got each other, an' ye got me."

"I don't want to work with him", Hikaru said, shooting a glare at Tsubasa.

"And I don't want to work with her!" he shot back.

"LISSEN HERE!" Les roared, and then regained his composure. "Lissen here, nah. Hik'ru. He din't steal yer shoes. It wazzat red-headed lillun, Gingka. And lissen here, Tsubasa. It ain't her fault yer in this mess. You two's the one what chose ta take this job, an' you two's the one what chose ta stay here. An' you two's the one what has ta deal wit' your choices. Yer tha pillar 'n ground 'o this comp'ny. It needs you ta survive, an' ye might's well learn a lil' bout teamwork, frustration, an' endurance along tha way."

Hikaru and Tsubasa bowed their heads meekly.

"That's better. Nah say yer sorry. Make up. Bury tha hatchet, kids, and try ta look out on the day wit' a bit more initiative. If ye kin git through tha day wi'out no more fiascos, ah'll take ye both te the bonfire tonight."

Despite himself, a small smile came onto Tsubasa's face, and he could see Hikaru looking a bit more perky. "Sorry", she muttered.

"Yeah. Me too."

"Thass bett'r. Nah go find some checks ta balance or customers ta handle. Go on, git wit' ye both." He let go of their hands and they exited the alcove.

Time restarted and space began to exist again; Hikaru slipped behind the desk with a slight smile and Tsubasa returned to Ryo's office to see if he had managed to stay awake. The promise of a bonfire that night bounced through their heads, and the thought of warm marshmallows and hot cocoa warmed them to the very core; with something to look forward to, Tsubasa thought, any day can get better.


	8. Falling

Track for this chapter:

Falling, by Yiruma, from the album From the Yellow Room

* * *

One morning all had seemed well with the world; the sky was a clear greyish-blue, promising rain, but not in a threatening way. Maybe it would even snow.

The prospect of the bonfires awaited him and Hikaru that night, as it had every night for a week, and it had not been too busy. Ryo was present and, more surprisingly, actually awake, and nobody was messing up the scenery.

But as a mountain is quiet right before it erupts, so was today.

All of a sudden a mass of bodies blew into the lobby, a tangle of arms and legs headed towards them, as Ryo rushed out of the elevator on the other side.

One mass shoved something at him - the mass that was Masamune, Gingka, Yuu, and the unwilling Madoka - while the projectile from the elevator shoved something else at him.

"Here, will you babysit my ferret?"..."I need you to file these papers."

"**THANKS, BYE!**"

And then the tangle of four people and the blur that was Ryo tried to turn around at the same moment and collided into each other and the water fountain, spilling liquid across the tile, sending screaming bodies hurtling and slipping across it, and wetting the trousers and skirts of all occupants of the lobby up to the knees.

And as the island's always still after an eruption, ashes coming down and getting up the noses of the survivors, sixty-two people stood frozen and wet in the lobby while at least 20 of those sixty were on the floor in the giant puddle still spilling out from the busted pipe; and at the same time, ironically, it started to snow.

The ten people who were agents muttered excuses and filed out of the room.

The thirty-five people who were customers left in a huff.

And then the twenty on the floor got up and left.

This left Ryo, Gingka, Masamune, Madoka, and Yuu in a moaning, sodden heap on the floor, and Tsubasa and Hikaru standing at the lobby desk, Hikaru on a chair so her clothes would not get wet, and Tsubasa with an angry ferret and a heap of mushy paper.

For a moment all was still and silent, save for the rage building up inside him and the trickle of the busted pipe; the ferret angrily squealed at him and tried to claw its way up his hair.

And then the tension and stress bottled up since last summer came pouring out.

He stomped over to the pile of people on the floor.

"I'm not your ferret-sitter", he said to Gingka, dropping the angry animal on top of him.

"And I'm not your secretary", he said to Ryo, dropping the paper on top of him.

"I quit."

And then he left.

* * *

When he hit the sidewalk, he hit it running.

Dumpsters and alleyways flashed past him, blurred by the frustrated tears streaming from his face. His hair clip fell into the gutter with an audible THUNK; he left it. He realised he'd forgotten his backpack and jacket at the WBBA; but he didn't care, nor did he feel the bite of the cold on his bare arms.

At last he couldn't run anymore, and found himself in an unfamiliar part of the city, lost, wet, and lonesome; he also found that he couldn't care less.

He fell against the wall in the side of an alley, watching the snow swirl and muddy in the gutter on the sidewalk, and shut his eyes.

* * *

Tsubasa vaguely remembered opening his eyes at some point, just long enough to glimpse a tall figure standing in the alley, wearing a long white jacket with blue stripes down the sleeves; the figure dropped several large brown bags on the alley floor and raced through the snow towards him before the world went dark again, and he succumbed with no protest.

* * *

When he awoke again, his eyes felt puffy and swollen; he could hear the anxious ring of voices nearby, hauntingly familiar, but he couldn't quite place them. Before his slitted eyes he could see and feel the heat of a blazing fire, the weight of a blanket over him.

He didn't know how many times he drifted in and out of consciousness, only that he was somewhere he'd never seen before. In the hours of darkness surrounding him, he felt like he was falling downwards in an endless spiral, drifting aimlessly, not knowing when or where he might land...

...oddly at peace.


	9. View from the window

Track for this chapter:

The View from my Window, by Yiruma, from the album Destiny of Love

* * *

When at last the room swam into reasonable focus, morning light slanted through the window above him; the fire was cold before him, a few solitary coals gleaming in its ashes, and he sat up shakily.

His limbs felt stiff and weak, and he realised he was lying on top a a few layered blankets before a fireplace, wearing clothes that were not his own. Framed works of art hung on the walls around him, and across the room, a few pairs of shoes sat on a towel near the door. One pair was his.

He fell back onto the blankets, exhausted from the effort of sitting up.

He heard somebody walk into the room, soft thunk of heavy boots. They were trying to tread lightly. Talking in hushed voices on a cell phone, back and forth, back and forth, anxious on the carpet.

"Yes, yes, I've been trying to reach you for three days...by a dumpster. No, I did not KIDNAP him. He's been asleep the whole time...I don't think so. FOR THE LAST TIME, I did NOT KIDNAP HIM."

The stranger sighed.

"Yes, yes, whatever. Will you just come over here and get him? I am supposed to be in Michigan. I can't be waiting here for him to wake up...Very well. Fine. Fine. Yes...HOUR? MY FLIGHT LEAVES IN TEN MINUTES!"

The stranger seemed quite miffed at being delayed in his flight to Michigan, for whatever reason; Tsubasa supposed he was an artist because of the art plastered haphazardly on his walls in place of wallpaper.

An exasperated sigh, and then: "I SUPPOSE if you want to...you're sure? I mean you're absolutely sure your father will buy me a later ticket?...I have to be there before tonight. Yes, tonight. NO. I am going to leave RIGHT NOW if you...yes. Okay. Fine. Yes, yes, it's a deal. Goodbye."

Tsubasa heard the soft snap of a cell phone clicking shut, the whoosh of it sliding back into a pocket.

Behind him the figure sighed, and said softly, "There's no need to pretend to be asleep any longer, Tsubasa."

He sat up and turned to find the man leaning on the back of the couch behind him, head resting on gloved hands and green eyes shut, his hair falling down to his shoulders and jacket off.

Jack opened an eye and smiled cat-like at him. "You're lucky I rescued you, you know. You nearly got hypothermia."

Tsubasa did not feel at all surprised to see him, oddly enough; Jack seemed to fit into the scenery of the apartment perfectly.

He sat silently before the fire, and Jack copied his silence, both comfortable without saying a word. Communication was not needed here.

Then something struck him. "Jack, who was that on the phone?"

"I called the first number on your contact list. The rest was locked. Security reasons, I suppose", he said casually, indicating that he was annoyed with Tsubasa for locking his contact list.

Tsubasa mentally thumbed through the contents of his phone. The first contact on the list was...Gingka Hagane?

"You called Gingka?"

"Yes. He'll be here to pick you up in an hour." Jack surveyed him. "And by that, I mean probably physically _pick you up_."

Tsubasa shook his head mutely. "Get me a phonebook. I don't want to have to deal with Gingka right now."

"But his father already promised to get me another ticket to Michigan."

"Why are you going to Michigan?"

"For a wedding."

Curiosity officially peaked, due to the fact that he presumed Jack had no family or friends: "Whose?"

"Mine", he said casually. "Who were you going to call?"

"A friend. You can still catch your flight."

"It left 5 minutes ago."

"Is it still snowing?"

"Hmm...yes", Jack said, with a quick glance at the window.

"That plane is going to be grounded for at least the next hour. Planes never leave on time."

"You have a very good point, my friend." Jack lay a phonebook in Tsubasa's hands.

They then found that there is only one Les Romero in the whole of Metal City.

"Hello?" Les's gravelly voice came through the phone; Tsubasa was relieved to hear it again.

"Hi, Les."

"Ah think ye got tha wrong number. Watcher fingers nex' time ye makes a call, son, 'kay? Ah gotta go. Lookin' fer a lost friend."

"Les, it's me. Tsubasa."

"Wha din'tcha say so!? Boy, I been lookin' fer ya since three days 'go! Where you been?"

"East side of town. It's a long story. Will you come and get me?"

"Why cant ye call a friend te come 'n gitchee?"

"You're my only friend."

"Oh, nah that ain't true. Ye got Hikaru and...uh. Miles. And...Ross and Hunter 'n Hazel."

"Seriously? A secretary, two eight-year-olds, a 5-year-old, and a 6-year-old?"

"Miles is seven."

"Les. Please? I'm tired and I just want to go home."

"All right, son. I'll come'n getcha. But when ye git back ta full health, you'n I is gonna sit down an' talk awhile, okay?"

"It's a deal."

Les appeared ten minutes later in a rust-coloured pickup truck. He an Jack, between them, managed to get Tsubasa into the front seat, and Jack rushed out behind them lugging a suitcase and a garment protector.

"Good luck with your wedding, Jack."

"Thank you. I probably shall need it", said Jack, paling a bit.

As they pulled out of the driveway and sleep took hold again, Tsubasa thought how nice it was not to have someone asking questions all the time. Jack had not pried as to why he had been near the dumpster on the east side of town in the first place, nor how he had come to be without a jacket.

And on the west side of town, forgotten beneath a layer of snow, unhinged with rust slowly creeping over its edges, lonely in the gutter lay a gold hair clip, ne'er to be discovered until spring.


	10. Chaconne

Track for this chapter:

Ok, first off, before I put the track, does anybody actually listen to these!? Comment if you do.

Chaconne, by Yiruma, from the album From the Yellow Room

* * *

"BOY! WHERE ARE YE!?"

Les's voice boomed up from the alley beneath Tsubasa's window, and he opened the sliding pane of glass, sticking his head out.

"I'm right here!"

"Why ain't ye at work!? If ye kin yell at me outta window, ye oughta be able te git ta work."

"I told you, Les, I told you a hundred times before", he shouted down, flailing his arms. "I quit. I'm done, I'm not going back."

"But ta WBBA NEEDS YE!"

"I don't care! If they needed me so much they would have said so!" Since quitting, he hadn't gotten one single phone call.

"They may not say it, boy, but they's gonna fall wit'out ye."

"It's not my problem anymore."

"Kin ah come up there 'n talk te ya?"

"If you want to."

"Okay." Les surveyed the ground around him. "Ye got a ladder handy?"

Tsubasa sighed. "Just go through the building, Les."

"Okay." A moment later, he heard Les knocking on the door.

Les stood outside the threshold, breath billowing in the unheated hallway. "Lemme in. Ah'mma die 'fore mah time if ah stands out here any longer."

Tsubasa moved aside and allowed him to step in. He and Les settled at the kotatsu with a coffee pot in the centre of the table, and Tsubasa, ever the good host, poured two cups of coffee and set them on the kotatsu.

"Lissen here. Ah thought that ye stayed at the WBBA cos' ye cared."

"I do care, Les, it's just that nobody else does. They don't see that I do my job or that I work hard. They just pile more on top of me." He cradled the hot coffee cup between his palms, inhaling the steam rising from it.

"Ah thought ye din't do yer job fer appreciation, son. Ah thought ye did it outta the goodness of your heart."

"Even good people get tired sometimes, Les."

"So ye needed a break?"

"A really long one. If I ever go back at all."

Les sipped from the coffee cup, thinking for a moment. And then: "Well, ah kin understand that. Ah just hope ye find it in yer heart to return. Ah'm afraid 'a what may happ'n te the world's young bladers if ta WBBA k'llapses."

"In that event, I would do all I could to help. It's not the organisation I have a problem with, it's the people who are trying to run it."

"Yeh." Les poured a little more coffee into his cup and sipped it again. "Ah kin see where yer comin' from, son."

"I assure you that if things start to really go downhill, I will consider returning; it's just that..." Tsubasa looked away, out the frosted-over window and towards the building towering over the drizzly city. "As long as they don't think they need me, they won't have me."

"Okay, son. Seein' as ah cain't convince ye otherwise, ah'mma hightail it. I'll seeye later."

"Okay, Les."

"Oh, an', uh. This don't mean ye gonna miss ta trip te New York, don't it? Cos ah think they still wants te bring ye wit them."

"I don't plan on missing it."

"Okay. Take a break. As long as ye kin support yerself an' they kin support themselves, ah guess you'll be alright."

Les left the cup on the kotatsu and headed towards the stairs, loping lazily out the door and shutting it behind him.

Alone in his apartment, Tsubasa stared at the coffee for a moment and then took his cell phone and called Ryo to see about getting his last paycheck.

* * *

"How could he do that? He's so self-centred!" Hikaru sat in the alcove hidden from time and space, arms wrapped around herself, looking distressed.

"Nah, Hik'ru...ye gotta admit ye wanted a break too awhile back. It's understandable. Ta workin' conditions set here ain't exactly fair, ye know." Les stood before her and crossed his arms, shadowy in the stark light coming through the alcove's door.

"It's not the same thing, Les! I came back. He just ran out and never turned back around."

"An' how de ya know he won't come back after all, Hik'ru? He's a trustworthy man, an' as long as things stay allright, ah think y'all kin manage wit'out him. What about Jason an' Keith Hallmark? They're good people an' ah know they's gonna help ye."

"Things are never going to shape back up if he doesn't return."

"Nah, ye don't know that. He'll come back if ye really needs him. Maybe all o' ya shoulda started 'preciatin' him more. He din't feel like he was needed or wanted, an' so he stopped comin' te work."

"That's not the same thing, Les. Don't you know Jack called Gingka to come and get him, and when Tsubasa heard that, he called you so he could avoid speaking to Gingka?" Hikaru crossed her arms and glared defiantly at Les. Les lifted his chin and glared at her.

"Yes, ah know that. He needs some room to breathe, Hik'ru. We all do sometimes. He hain't had it for a long time an' it's time he gotta little slack cut fer him. He deserves it. Furthermore, Gingka an' his father don' appreciate him. He's come from a hard background, an' people need ta be more understandin'."

"HE needs to be more understanding!"

"He's been understandin' fer longer'n ye know, fer longer'n he kin bear te stand nah more. Has 'e ever blown up in ta time't ye known him?"

"Well...no..."

"Then maybe it's time fer a little speakin' what we feel, hon."

"Okay."

"You'll be alright. If ye needs anythin', ah'm always at ta corner near his apartment, kay? I'll be keepin' an eye on both' ye ta make sure you're all right. Come'n check up on ye once'n awhile. Okay?"

"Thanks, Les." Les turned and went back to the timestream while Hikaru sat and thought about his words for a moment, and then turned and hurried back to the front lobby.


	11. The Scenery Begins

Track for this chapter:

The Scenery Begins, by Yiruma, from the album From the Yellow Room

* * *

A knock on the door startled him to waking.

Deep slumber had peacefully serenaded him throughout the night, for the first time in months; unburdened by the stress of a full-time, unpredictable job, he had finally found good rest at last.

Now the knocking grew more intense; Tsubasa stumbled out of bed and opened the door, staring bleary eyed at a wall.

"Hey! HEEEEYY! Tsubasa! I'm DOWN HERE!" The words coordinated with the insistent tugs on his shirt. He looked down.

Yuu Tendou stared up at him, a backpack slung over his shoulder, sweater enveloping his body in lumpy folds.

"Oh. Hello, Yuu. What time is it?"

"10:00. Don't tell me you only just woke up, Tsubasa!"

"Wow, I sure slept late, huh."

"Yeah you did."

"Why aren't you at school?"

"It's SATURDAY! Did you go become a cave-dweller in secret? Because you seem to know nothing about what is going on IN THE REAL WORLD!"

Tsubasa scratched his head awkwardly, yawning softly.

"Well, are you going to ask me to come in, or not?...Please tell me your kotatsu is heated up. It's freezing out here!"

Tsubasa opened the door wider, and Yu slipped in past him, setting something on the table and settling beside the kotatsu gratefully. Tsubasa opened his eyes wide enough to see that he'd set a bowl of oranges on top of the kotatsu, and settled across from him.

"What's with the fruit?"

"GRAPEfruit, Tsubasa, it's GRAPEFRUIT. This apartment is ugly so the orange is good for it. Also", he added, rolling a grapefruit idly between his palms, "It's good for long life."

"What? Who told you that?"

"Poppleton. Actually he heard it on TV."

"Why do I need long life?" Tsubasa took on of the grapefruit as well, examining its orange globular surface quizzically.

"Come on, Tsubasa, you have to admit it sometime! You're secretly as old as Les, right? That would explain the grey hair!"

"What!? No." Tsubasa replaced the grapefruit. Yuu babbled on.

"Actually, Poppleton found out that the secret to long life is friends, but you don't get out much, you know."

"Okay, okay, that's enough." Tsubasa zipped up the backpack, put it in Yuu's arms, and shoved him gently out the door.

"See you later, Yuu. Thanks for the fruit, but my apartment needs it more than I do."

"You mean because it needs a new paint job and, like, actual furniture?"

"No. It's older than I am and is about to die. See you, now."

"Okay, bye, Tsubasa." Yuu hurried down the stairs, breathing heavily on purpose so he could watch his breath turn into clouds.

Tsubasa shook his head and warmed up the coffee pot silently, eyeing the grapefruit. Yuu must be bored. Making up theories about his hair. Honestly.

* * *

He passed Les at the corner later that day, ever conscious of the you-don't-get-out-much comment from Yuu.

"Ahp. AHP-papapapap, nuh-uh. Do NOT pass go." Les grabbed his collar and swung him around onto the cold sidewalk, where he landed with a thump.

"Hi, Les."

"Hi, Son. Ye look tired."

"Yeah...I guess sleeping in will do that to you."

"Seems like it oughta be te opposite reaction, but okay. Whatcha doin, where ye seein, and how you goin' about it today, son?"

"I don't know. Without working I'm not sure what I'm doing today."

"Eaten breakfast yet?"

"No, sir."

"Might ah recommend a lil' place of East Griffin street?...Mah great-nephew works thar. Andre Romero. Ask around, you'll find 'im. Gotta coffee shop an' a bookstore in it. Spend ta mornin' thar an' ye'll see some pretttttttty interestin' things happ'nin. But I hafta warn ye, Anndre's a hugger..."

"I might just do that. What's the name of the coffee shop?"

Tsubasa had to say that the name Andre Romero sounded hauntingly familiar.

"Uhh...cain't remember fer ta life'o me. Gotta lil' reindeer painted on ta window. Ye cain't miss it. Oh, and, uh...ye might pick up a book or somethin' fer Hik'ru. She's still feelin' down bout you leavin' all a sudden."

"Okay, Les. Maybe I'll do that. See you later."

"You may pass go. And, if ye see a hundred dollars, it's mine."

Tsubasa chuckled and walked on towards East Griffin, feet creating rifts in the snow. He dragged them on purpose, leaving a trail like deep wagon wheels behind him, going slow through the chilly air as snowflakes stuck to his blue sweater.

Sure enough, when he looked up, a faded reindeer, badly painted, stared sideways down at him from the window. The sign on the coffee shop's door read "The Scenery Begins".

Funny name for a coffee shop, he thought. Sounded like a song.

He walked in, up to the counter, preoccupied with reading the menu. It was placed inconveniently high up, so he had to crane his neck to look at it.

By the time he reached the counter and looked up at the guy standing behind it, it took him a moment to register the man's face because of the crick in his own neck.

A brown-haired, tall boy looked boredly down at him. The tag on his shirt read, simply, "Andre."

"Are you Andre?"

"Read the tag, man. Nobody got time to answer questions like that no more."

"Les Romero's grand nephew?"

"Oh yeah, oh yeah, Les my great-uncle", he slurred. "You know him?"

"Yes. He told me to come by. I'm Tsubasa." He stuck out his hand and the guy straightened.

"Hold on, hold on, you're Tsubasa Otori? I remember you from back when you was little! You was the little guy who came around and beat me at the tournament! The one with the lil' pet bird, what was following you 'round night and day!"

"Now I remember you. You're the one who rigged the poles so they'd fall."

"Yeah. Yeah, good to see you again!" Andre crossed around the counter and hugged him. Les's words from earlier rang in his head. "He's a hugger..."

Or maybe that was the blood ringing in his head. Andre finally let go of him and resumed his position at the counter.

"Hey, you ain't still mad, are ya? Cause you didn't hug me back."

"That was because my arms were becoming one with my sides. No, I'm not still mad."

"Oh, good, man, good! Because you're my hero, man, and you can't stand it if your hero's mad at you."

"Why am I your hero."

Andre studied him for a moment and then whistled. "Man, oh, man, you have grown UP so much since that little battle! You got to see the world, become legendary! You were a HERO! That's why you're my hero. Cause I can go to some random man around the street an' tell them, 'I battled that Tsubasa guy once, an' I won!'"

"You cheated, Andre..."

Andre went on as if nothing had happened. "Man, what I wouldn't give to be you. I mean, like, just for a day. Going into coffee shops an' getting recognized by everyone...and having a career as a blader...now, I haven't took out that Flightwing Aries in ages, man. I swear it's sitting in my closet. I got no more blader spirit."

"I would switch with you any day." Tsubasa leaned on the counter, caught up in conversation.

"Seriously, man!? You'd like, totally give up your blader spirit and place in the world?"

"Just for a day. Then I'll go back to my monotonous life of ugly apartments, ferret-sitting, and minimum wage. Oh, wait, I'm not employed anymore. Scratch that."

"Wow. You sure have fallen. You just need a little cappuccino." Andre set down a sup on the counter. "This one's on me. For my hero."

"I'm not a hero. I'm the one they remember as the evil guy and the not-really member. Kyouya should have gotten my place on Gan Gan Galaxy."

"HEY! No, no, no, no dissing your own life, man." Andre leaned on the counter and glared at him. "You got a great life. You just gotta live it, don't you know that!? You can't have a good life unless you try! I sure din't remember you as the guy who was evil! You're the one who totally got over it!"

"I don't know, Andre. Being that guy is not all it's cracked up to be. You got a small-city life, a great job, and you're surrounded by coffee."

Andre smacked his hand and whisked away the cup. "No, no, no cappuccino for you until you get some confidence like I saw back in the WC. I totally followed your every move, man, and I loved it, I lived it. There's stars in the sky what shines way brighter than other ones, an' even if you can't see it, you're one of them. I'm just one'o those man-made ones, a city light."

Tsubasa talked Andre into giving him breakfast, paid for it, and sat down at a high window table with a book. As he left a couple of hours later, he picked up a book for Hikaru too.

_There's some stars in the sky what shine brighter than others, and whether ya know it or not, you're one of them. I'm just one'o those man-made city lights..._

Andre was seeing things wrong.


	12. Maybe

GRRR. Guys, I need some help. It's computer-related.

You see, I have this folder on my computer full of pictures and gifs which...ahem...all pertain to my extreme fangirl-ness. There is TONS and TONS, literally THOUSANDS of beyblade stuff in there, as well as some Avatar and Pokemon, but all of a sudden none of them will open.

I have them in sub-folders and metasubfolders titled Gan Gan Galaxy, the WBBA, etc, for easier organisation, but all of a sudden the picture thumbnails are not showing up, and I keep getting a message from Photo library that says it can't open the file. None of the files I downloaded from tumblr will open at all.

Coincidentally, the GIMP won't open jpegs from ANY of my photo folders.

Anybody out there who has the same problem?

* * *

Track for this chapter:

Maybe, by Yiruma, from the album First Love

(Whew. Been on a Yiruma marathon here, haven't I?)

* * *

_You don't get out much, you know, Tsubasa..._

_She was kinda sore 'bout you leavin' the organisation alla sudden._

_There's stars in the sky what shine brighter than others - you were my hero..._

Voices rang in his mind across the cold damp room in the top of the apartment building, taking precious sleep away from him. He could sleep tomorrow...but he had things to do tomorrow.

_I was remembered as the one who turned evil._

_No, you conquered it, remember?_

_That little kid sure looks up te ya, son._

He had conquered it, but had anyone cared? Had anyone cheered? Ryo and Hikaru had stood in the top of the WBBA and smiled at the TV screen, but they'd never congratulated him. Acted like it had never happened.

He was not a hero figure.

_An act. I'm an act. I put up with it day and night and it's never who I really want to be or what I really want to say. I don't even know who I really am any more._

_You're a star..._

_I'm not a star. I'd switch places with you gladly._

He didn't sleep until early that morning, as dawn crept into the sky and found him in a restless slick-palmed slumber.

* * *

Les paced at the corner restlessly, boots creating muddy tracks in the snow.

Where was Tsubasa? He hadn't been out of his apartment in a week. It was December now. The trip to New York was coming up. Was he going to show?

Les had a feeling he needed this vacation more than he knew.

Many times he'd called the boy's cell phone, but never had he answered.

Over a few days, the voicemail switched from "Hello, you've reached the cell phone of Agent Tsubasa Otori. Apologies for missing your call. Leave me a number and I'll get back to you as soon as I possibly can", to the robotic, automated voice found on most answering machines.

Like the boy had disappeared off the face of the earth.

Les shook his head gruffly. He'd seen a great many magical things on this planet, but he knew that if something happened to the young man, he'd feel it.

* * *

Tsubasa let his phone battery run down. He didn't want to talk to anyone, to be reminded that he was the back-door guy. All he needed was this apartment, eagle, and a surprisingly abundant amount of grapefruit.

He knew that soon he'd have to go back to work in order to support himself, but he had a few thousand dollars saved up in the bank. He'd be okay for awhile. Not ready to face reality just yet.

He knew that soon he'd have to go to the grocery store, show his face in a world where he was just another person. But there was enough to get him through a few more days.

* * *

Andre stood at the counter in Scenery Begins, serving cappuccinos and lattes here and there. Monotony.

"Your usual, I presume, Mrs. Brown..."

"Yeah, yeah, Tony, I know you was gonna come round here again sometime."

"...your best friend? May I recommend that book right there."

Over and over, the same sentences.

_I would switch places with you any day..._

_Me? A city light? You'd rather be a city light'n a star? Doubtful._

Andre shook his head. One day as him, and that guy would be blowing a gasket with impatience.

Tsubasa hadn't come by again, despite his obvious affection for the coffee shop and promise to come back sometime in the week. It was halfway through the second week since he'd come, and Andre was beginning to get worried.

Great-uncle Les knew where he lived. Andre phoned him and found that the poor guy had gone missing. Hair on end, he hurried through the rest of the shift, threw on his coat and mittens, and hit the streets.

* * *

Les heard footsteps crunching through the ice crystals on the fresh snow.

Early morning.

Perfect for somebody to take a walk if they didn't want to talk to anyone.

He raised his head from the guitar and turned.

Sure enough, dressed in a wrinkled blazer with his untamed hair falling around his face, the picture of depression himself; Tsubasa came trudging down the sidewalk.

Les jumped up.

"SON! Where ye been!? You hain't come down aroun' here fer the past week'n a half! The trip's in two weeks, ye bett'r git packin!"

"I'm not going on any trip."

"WHAT!?"

A bear came barrelling into the conversation in the form of Andre.

"TSUBASA! Man, I been lookin' all over for you! You need a hug, man. Lookit you. You hain't ironed them clothes since you bought them, 'parently." Andre engulfed him in a huge hug.

"ANDRE, don't suff'cate the boy. He's got some 'splainin' ta do. Then we'll see if maybe he deserves a death by bear hug."

Andre reluctantly let go of Tsubasa, who stood in the snow clutching at his ribs and trying to remember how to breathe. Andre grabbed his shoulders. "Where have you been? You promised to come back and visit. Don't you like me no more?"

"I've been...busy."

"You're a reg'lar introvert. Not answerin' yer phone or comin' out. Even sent Yuu to knock on yer door coupla times an' he said both times ye wasn't home. Worried bout' ye." Les glared down at him.

"And ya know, worryin' ain't good fer Uncle Les's heart", Andre added.

"Nah, Andre, mah heart's jus' fine. That's b'sides the point. Tell me where ye been, Tsubasa."

"I'm tired of talking to people. Maybe I should just stay in the apartment for the rest of my life." Tsubasa shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked at the snow.

"WHAT!? Why?"

"Nobody needs me. That's why."

"That ain't true", said Andre gruffly. "Git it together, man! You was my hero, you the hero of Yuu Tendou too. You know why you're our hero? Cos' ye beat something inside of all of us that's hard te get rid of. Ye oughta be proud of yerself."

"Thanks, Andre, but I don't need the star talk again."

"Lissen. Ah gotta feelin you bein' too hard on yerself, son. Tell me what's wrong", Les coaxed.

"I don't feel like myself anymore. I have to act like somebody else every single day. I just want people to understand me and notice me." Tsubasa saw two dimples hit the fresh snow and realised they were tears.

Andre hugged him again.

"ANDRE! PUT HIM DOWN!" Les shook Andre off of him. "Lissen, boy. Nobody ain't gonna understand ye unless ye tell 'em to. The human race ain't exactly intell'gent all the time. People like me 'n Andre - you don't find that offen. Ye gotta tell em' what ye want."

"But I never do that! I don't know how. I wish..." he took a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears. "I wish I wasn't here any more."

"Then LEAVE", Les growled impatiently. "I been tellin' ye that since October. If ye don't belong here, you gotta go find a place somewhere else where ye can recuperate and git yerself together 'nuff where ye kin come back home. Back here."

"What are you saying, Uncle Les!?" Andre was indignant.

"Nah, shush-it. Lemme talk. Son", Les said, standing and laying his hands on Tsubasa's shoulders, "Do what ye need to do. I ain't gonna stop ye if you do the right thing. Only you know what's goin' on in yer heart. Git outta here. Go run off an' find who you need to be, an' don't come back till ye do."

Tsubasa mustered a wavering smile.

"There ye go. Go on that trip later this month. Ye need it. An' if ye don't come back wit' the rest of 'em, well, it's yer choice. Might be better for ye right now'n staying here. I gotta feeling you ain't able ta fly well 'nough. That's what's botherin' you, ain't it."

Andre was stuttering in protest. Tsubasa murmured his thanks, turned towards the WBBA, and set his steps there. He needed to give that book to Hikaru.

"Uncle Les, you're sendin' him off? He jus' got back home!"

"Andre", Les said softly, strumming his guitar, "Andre, home's determined by the heart. Ah think he left 'is heart somewhere where 'e cain't reach it an' e needs ta find it again. Maybe he will. But if he don't, he ain't never gonna be happy. Is that whatche want fer him, really?"

"No."

"He's a eagle. 'E needs ta find 'is wings. Then he kin go up in ta sky 'n be free, an' see us all from a distance. Cos' from a distance, the world looks beautiful, an' if ye can remember that, then when ye come back, it'll stay that way. Who knows", he added, setting down the guitar. "Who knows. Maybe we all have some flyin' ta do."

* * *

Hikaru looked up as a tall, dark, and slightly...wrinkled figure walked into the lobby.

She didn't recognise him at first, for he looked a bit dishevelled. His hair was not tied back, and his blazer was unironed. But there was Tsubasa, plain as day. She looked at him hopefully, hoping he was here to reclaim his position.

Instead, he slid a hardcover book onto the counter. "I brought this for you. Sorry for leaving you to deal with all this."

"Sorry doesn't cut it. You have to come back first."

Tsubasa chuckled softly. "I've got some flying to do before I can handle coming back here."

Suddenly a voice crackled through the intercom. "Is that Tsubasa?"

"You're awake", said Tsubasa. "Yes. It's me."

"Yes, I'm awake. I thought at first that you were Tetsuya...might wanna brush your hair. I need you to come up here and speak to me."

Tsubasa sighed. He'd been afraid of this. But he went up the elevator without protest.

Ryo gazed at him sternly as he came in.

"Sir, you look like a vulture in pain."

"Ha. Ha. That's soooo funny." Ryo pressed his fingertips together on top of the desk, not offering him a seat at all.

"I was thinking about cancelling your plane ticket to New York, you know", he said gravely. "But I found out that I should not. Because...I owe you an apology.

"I'm not asking you to come back just yet. I know you've been through a lot. But you're keeping your agent status so that. should you choose to come back, you don't have to go through orientation again. I'll also get to skip the trouble of dealing with passports at customs, since agents count as international and don't belong to one country. I hope you're still planning on coming with us."

Tsubasa nodded. "I gave it some thought, and I'll come if you'll have me."

"Consider it done. Good luck with your life, see you in a couple of weeks, and all that jazz." Ryo turned to the window, signifying that the conversation was over.

Tsubasa smiled as he went down. No passport trouble. He wouldn't have to deal with customs, visas, or any hassle if he was to leave the country for longer than 30 days.

He'd better start getting ready to leave. His wings were waiting for him.


	13. With the Wind

Track for this chapter:

With the Wind, by Yiruma, from the album From the Yellow Room

* * *

It was December 25.

Today, 9 people would be leaving on an international flight to New York, with two stopoffs in Beaumont, Texas, and Nashville, Tennessee.

8 of those eight people would arrive in New York after a 14-hour flight.

As for Tsubasa, he would not be leaving Beaumont on a plane.

He stood at the airport in the cold wind, wrapping his sweater tighter around himself, while Ryo grumbled on about the outrageous stopoffs and Gingka complained about the cold. Yuu was falling asleep on his feet, it being 5 am after all, and Kyouya and Benkei hurried past him through the doors. But Madoka and Hikaru kept on without complaint, and Kenta couldn't complain because he was not awake.

The yellow artificial lights of the chilly lobby loomed above them. As Yuu clambered into his lap and fell asleep, a wave of doubt overcame him; could he really leave this little boy in Beaumont?

And then he reminded himself that it was only for a month or two. After awhile he'd be back in Metal City with new wings and a better sense of himself.

Yuu clung to him all the way through customs, and then fell asleep again beside him on the plane. As the lights of dawn gleamed over the horizon and the reflection snow on the runway glinted in the sun, the plane left the asphalt and the sky took the space around them. His flight to freedom had begun.

* * *

The people became ant-like on the ground and the buildings like tiny blocks; behind him was the entire city, before him an ocean. Tsubasa fingered one of his earbuds and found himself too weary to put it in; he shut his eyes and leaned back against the chair, but found his blood circulation cut off by Yuu's head.

He gently removed his arm from beneath the boy's face.

Yesterday he'd stopped at Scenery Begins and said his goodbyes to Andre, and also Les, who had taken to hanging around the cafe for the warmth and 'mate's rates,' in short, a discount on the food. Andre had tearfully wished him luck, treating him to that cappuccino he'd promised him earlier.

"You deserve it, man. I totally cheated you out of it that one day...ya need it more'n me."

Tsubasa had taken the cup gratefully from him and Les had clapped him on the shoulder. "I wish you luck. There's a whole new world waitin' fer ye te find it, an' all ye gotta do's folla yer heart. You'll find your wings and fly off an' then ye'll come back."

As a parting gift, Andre selected a book from the oak shelves in the corner and handed it to him: a book of proverbs and sayings.

"If you need one o' these, you're heart'll tell ya."

Tsubasa leaned down and took the book from the carryon now, opening it for the first time. The book fell open to a page as naturally as if somebody had turned to there a hundred times, a page Andre had dogeared and evidently opened back and forth so he could find it easily.

A phrase was circled in red just below the centre of the page, jumping out at him and sending tears springing to his eyes:

_In the truest sense, freedom cannot be bestowed; it must be achieved._

_-Franklin D. Roosevelt_

Flipping through other pages, Tsubasa found yet another circled quote:

_Self-reliance is the only road to true freedom, and being one's own person is its ultimate reward._

_-Patricia Sampson_

More circled quotes littered the book like fallen leaves, and inside the front cover he found Andre's and Les's signatures, Andre's printed and blocky script contrasting with Les's helter-skelter handwriting.

_Hope you find peace somewhere, son._

Nothing more and nothing less. One sentence from the two of them that summed up all their thought in only seven words.

He ran a finger over the red ink and shut the book. If he needed it, he knew where to find it.

* * *

He opened his eyes to find the lights of a small city around him, the wheels of the plane gliding smoothly across the asphalt. The landscape was absent of snow. Beaumont awaited him.

As the 9 of them crowded into the lobby with the other grumpy passengers, set to wait here until 3 am. Beaumont time, Tsubasa reminded himself that it was still yesterday here and smiled. Here was a chance to change his future.

At 2 am. now, the sky was absent of any light except for the stars, both the ones gleaming atop the towers of the city and the ones set high in the heavens.

He took a deep breath. Now may be his only chance. He set Yuu down on the seat beside him and told him that he was going to get a snack and find the restrooms.

He shouldered his backpack, within it all the possessions he needed for his new venture, and loped towards the exit. The cold hit him like a wave, but it was not as bad here.

As he trotted off, he allowed himself a single glance behind him into the warmth of the airport, within it 8 people who knew nothing of his departure as of yet; and then he looked back towards the sky of freedom that awaited him and prepared himself for a long journey, both through America and the wilderness of his own heart.

* * *

Kyouya pressed his face to the cold glass, looking out at the 2 am. sky that bordered Beaumont's city skyline. Then suddenly he saw a figure running across the parking lot from the corner of his eye, and glanced aside.

Tsubasa's gait was familiar, and his backpack bounced behind him in sync with his light jog. Kyouya smiled slightly; he's been expecting Tsubasa to run off sometime soon now.

As the Beaumont-Nashville flight took off into the dark sky, he looked down and thought he could make out the figure of Tsubasa disappearing into a side alley.

Kyouya knew what it was like to be wild and unanchored, trying to find someplace to settle and keep yourself. He knew what it was like to break free of a vast jungle in your mind and burst into open air, finally able to move freely and get a sense of direction. He would be no man to hinder another in his quest for free spirit.

_I just hope he finds whatever he's looking for out there._


	14. Passing By

Track for this chapter:

Passing By, by Yiruma, from the album First Love

* * *

Keith Road lay beyond the shelter of the trees lining the asphalt, splashed with the golden light of early morning. The Beaumont Municipal Airport lay across the road and far off; he'd run so far, it seemed, but he was only a little ways away from where he'd left his old life behind.

There was a shallow river of water running along the edge of the trees; he sat here perched high up on one of the branches, looking down on the world.

The rest of Beaumont lay beyond the train tracks, a small town where you could disappear. Much smaller than Metal City.

He clambered down from the boughs of the tree and trotted towards the road, leaping the shallow river quickly and misjudging the length in his excitement; muddy water splashed his pants cuffs and his backpack jolted behind him.

He clambered up the shoulder of the road and stood facing the train tracks, a crossroad of sorts; browned grass lay around him and a pasture sat to his west.

Turning right at the crossroads, he continued on until he found himself at a high school, buzzing with life at a big Christmas party. Cars drove through the chilly air to rest in the parking lot, and his heart swelled within him; he had found a resting place, it seemed, a small town with close relationships and nobody here who knew him.

* * *

Tsubasa stepped in through the doors of a Dollar General, relishing in the warmth. He'd wandered aimlessly down the road, and this was the first place he'd come to with food. His internal clock told him it should be 10 pm, but it was 7 am here.

Breakfast, he reminded himself, not dinner; and he managed to swallow some of the doughnuts he'd bought before stowing the rest of the pack in his bag. He couldn't stomach something so breakfasty when his mind was telling him to go to bed.

Sitting on the edge of the curb, he remembered that he had nowhere to stay tonight.

The first order of business was to get a job; he about 2000 US dollars on him right now, taken from his savings, and the other half of his money remained behind, gathering interest. He didn't know how long 2000 dollars would get him by now.

1997.75, he reminded himself.

He stood and continued down Phelan Boulevard, wondering where the road would take him.

* * *

When at last his feet could carry him no longer, the fuel from the rush of freedom leaving him, he found himself on a street lined with well-designed houses in an old style. A general store sat on the left of the street, and he turned; surely it would be time to eat again.

He checked his watch, realising it was still set to Japan time. Midnight. It was 9 am. He had been walking for two hours.

He looked towards the general store, and wondered if they were hiring. He crossed the parking lot and went inside.

The door swung open easily, and the counter on the right faced the door at a steep angle. He met with chaos coming in.

Two voices from the back yelled loudly at one another.

"YOU HAVE A CORN DOG FOR A MIND, ETHAN."

"YOU HAVE HALF OF ONE!"

The girl at the counter turned around and yelled, "QUINN! ETHAN! WILL YOU BE QUIET!?"

"STAY OUTTA THIS, CINDY. NOW LISTEN HERE, ETHAN...YOU PUT KETCHUP IN THE NACHO SAUCE EVER AGAIN I WILL PERSONALLY FIRE YOU!"

"YA CAIN'T FIRE ME! YOU AIN'T THE BOSS!"

"WELL HADLEY LEFT ME IN CHARGE WHILE SHE'S GONE!"

The girl at the counter dodged a Styrofoam cup that came sailing through the open door to the kitchen.

"WATCH WHERE YA THROWIN' THOSE!"

Tsubasa realised he was hidden from sight by a large display of sunglasses, and considered waiting out the fight. The corn dogs smelled awfully good. Even though he knew it would mess with his jet lag even worse, he was willing to risk it.

Finally, when it seemed that the boys in the back would not be quieting down anytime soon, he stepped out from behind the rack and towards the counter.

A girl leaned on the pseudo-marble countertop, reading a book. Curls the colour of orange juice hung around her shoulders, and her freckled face seemed vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place it.

She looked up as he approached.

"Oh, hey, stranger. I din't hear you come in. Cause them IDIOTS IN TA BACK IS BICK'RIN' LIKE A BUNCHA CATS!" she said, raising her voice purposefully so the boys would hear her.

The way she said 'din't' nagged at his mind, but he shoved the thought away, too hungry to think. "Hi, uh...Cindy", he said, sneaking a glance at the nametag on her collar. "Do you sell corn dogs here?"

Cindy looked surprised.

"Bit early fer lunch. Don't you think?"

"I have really, really bad jet lag."

"Ooooh, ya fly in from Alaska or somethin'?"

"Japan. Metal City. About 50 miles outside Tokyo."

"Oh yeah, Japan's cap'tal Beyblade city. Don't know many folks what'd fly ta Beaumont for Christmas, though."

"I...missed my plane. Are there any corn dogs?" he asked again.

"Sure, man. ETHAN!"

"AH TOLD YOU TA STAY OUTTA THIS!"

"YOU SCARIN' OFF TA CUSTOMERS. GIT ME TWO CORN DOGS. AN' NO NACHO CHEESE." Turning back to Tsubasa, Cindy said, "Ah reckon you ain't as bigga fan of ketchup and cheese as Ethan seems ta be."

"I've had worse."

Cindy chuckled. "Cain't imagine much worse'n Ethan's idea of cookin'."

One of the boys stormed out of the kitchen, covered in orange soda. He was Quinn, according to his nametag. "Cain't imagine much worse'n bein' open on Christmas", he snarled. "Oughta be up't the high school wit' the rest o' the kids."

"Ya heard what Hadley said. We open all year round cos we don't get 'nough business anyhow."

Quinn shoved a paper bag at her and stormed back towards the kitchen, only to be pelted with corn chips.

"WHY YOU - !" He broke into a run and nearly fell on his face on the tile.

Cindy turned back to Tsubasa. "My 'pologies in advance fer ta first time they ruin yer life. BUT, the second time, you on yer own." She handed him the corn dogs and turned back to her book.

He seated himself at one of the small tables near the window, a sticky ring from a cup long past residing on the corner, but he was too hungry to care. He devoured the hot corn dogs almost without noticing how his mouth was getting burnt, and finally remembered why he was here.

He was starting his first day of freedom with corn dogs?

He took out the book Andre and Les had gifted him with, and opened it.

_Responsibility is the price of freedom._

_-Elbert Hubbard _

He stood and headed back to the counter, giving Cindy a wavering smile.

"Are you hiring for any positions?...any at all?"

"Hey, sorry, bud. We're all filled."

Suddenly Quinn stormed out of the kitchen.

"AH QUIT, CINDY. YOU DEAL WIT' ETHAN ON YER OWN NOW."

"Hey, hold on! Ya gotta clear it wit' Hadley 'fore ya quit!"

"IT'S YOUR PROBLEM NOW." Quinn threw his nametag down on the counter. "Ah'll return ta shirt later. Seeya at school." Quinn stormed out the door.

Cindy turned back to him with a nervous smile. "Eh, hehehe...spot jus' opened up."

"I'll take it."

"Min'mum wage. 7.50 an hour." Cindy grabbed an employee's shirt from beneath the counter and handed it to him. "Git changed 'fore Hadley comes in here. Maybe you'll pass fer Quinn."

Giving him another once-over, she shook her head. "Nevermind. Tat'd never happen."

Before heading to the restrooms to put on the shirt, he squinted at her. "I swear you look familiar."

"Buddy, ah never seen you 'fore in mah life. Don't know where you'd recognize me from." Cindy shooed him on. "Git."

As he stepped out of the restroom, tugging at the hem of the shirt - a size too large - Cindy turned back to him. Something about the way the light glinted off the counter, like sunlight off of fallen snow, and hit her face, reminded him of someone.

It popped into his mind suddenly.

_Andre._

"Say, Cindy", he said, striding towards her, "You wouldn't happen to know anybody by the name of Andre Romero, would you?"

"Ah, so ya met my cousin. Ah tell ya, our fam'ly tends ta go inta the fast food business...Yah, I know Andre. You been to The Scenery?"

"Yes. I met your grandfather, too. Les."

"Got somethin' loose in tat head o' his. WHOA, git in the kitchen, buddy! Pretend ta be doin' something...productive. Hadley's headin' up the parkin' lot!"

Ethan squealed from the back and scuttled madly around, trying to clean up the mess of empty containers littering the kitchen floor. Tsubasa hid behind the pretzel machine and hoped for the best.


	15. On the Way

Track for this chapter:

On the Way, by Yiruma, from the album First Love

* * *

Hadley stormed into the kitchen, a mess of tangled black hair and the temperament of a bull.

"ETHAN, WHERE IS MAH ASSISTANT MAN'GER!?"

"H-he left, ma'am."

"Whaddya mean, 'e left?"

"He - " Ethan's head swung over to where Cindy was wildly gesturing to him to shut up. "H-he fired 'imself! It wasn' mah fault!"

"SO WHAT AM AH SUPPOSED TA DO FER A ASSIS'NT MAN'GER NOW, TELL ME T'AT!?"

"C-cindy..." Cindy's gesturing grew wilder. "Cindy hired a new one!"

Cindy whirled and headed for the door, but not fast enough. Hadley grabbed her by the back of the collar and spun her around.

"WHERE IS THIS ASSIS'NT MAN'GER NAH!?"

Cindy glared at him from across the room. Tsubasa peeked cautiously out from behind the pretzel machine.

"THIS IS THE NEW ASSIS'NT MAN'GER?"

"Y-yes, ma'am", Cindy said softly.

"COME OUTTA THERE. WHAT DO YA THINK YER DOIN'?"

"I-I'm, uh, I'm..." Tsubasa stood up and dusted off his shirt. "I am fixing the pretzel machine, ma'am. Ethan poured...ketchup in the pretzel batter and it's making the machine...sticky."

"YOU WHAT?" Hadley turned to Ethan.

"I - He lied! It was the nacho sauce what ah poured it in, not ta pretzel batter!"

"How many times ah told you. Boy, this ain't a RECIPE CONVENTION!"

"Sorry", squeaked Ethan.

Well, thought Tsubasa, at least she cared about what was happening behind the scenes. Not like Ryo.

"Eth'n, I'da fired ya by now if it weren't fer ta lim'ted staff ah got round here. Y'all bett'r git ta work cleanin' this place up. It's gonna be lunch time soon and a few poor brainless tourists might stop by here later. IF we're lucky", she added.

Tsubasa stepped fully out from behind the pretzel machine.

"Wow, this place is really run down, huh?"

"Awww, ya don't have ta compliment it. Seriously, that's an understatement. We run by 3 teens an' a bipolar lady...ah don't see how we ain't all dead by now, hones'ly." Cindy shoved a broom into Ethan's hands. "Git ta work. You made the mess. I'mma work ta counter. You", she said, pointing to Tsubasa, "Go'n organise somthin'."

Tsubasa looked around. "This place doesn't look like anybody's bought anything for a few...years?"

"I don' care. Jus' look like yer doin' somethin' and maybe someone'll come inside."

Tsubasa rolled his eyes. In the area of marketing strategy, this store had nothing.

"My first suggestion is going to be to try dusting off the smoothies", he muttered, grabbed a rag, and got to work.

Cindy chuckled. "Tried t'at las' week. It din't work."

* * *

Ryo ran frantic circles around the group, hyperventilating even as he yelled incomprehensible sentences.

Finally he stopped, staring out breathlessly at the city of New York laid out before them, and then whirled to face the group of 7 people who stood in front of the airport.

"WHERE IS TSUBASA!?"

Gingka sighed. "Dad, I can't believe you didn't notice he was missing on the flight from Beaumont..."

"Well, did YOU!?"

"You're the adult of this operation, sir", Hikaru put forth.

Ryo ran about 60 more circuits around the group in the next few seconds, peering frantically around the corners, while the small knot of 7 watched him expressionlessly. They had long before learned to tolerate these brainless fits Ryo was so prone to.

At last he collapsed on the parking lot and Kyouya stepped forward.

"Tsubasa's long gone by now. He hightailed it in Beaumont and barely looked back."

"You knew about this, buddy?" Benkei turned to him. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Look." Kyouya held up a smaartphone. "Tsubasa has brains; he left his phone behind so he's be untraceable. I get the feeling he didn't want to be found."

"This is a disaster", Ryo said, grabbing the phone from him. "We need to get somewhere with good cell service. Maybe there's someone on his contact list who can tell us what's been going on with him lately."

A few minutes later, the group sat at a small table in KFC Jamaica as Ryo scrolled through the phone's menus. Gingka, Madoka, Hikaru, Yuu, and Kenta looked out on Queens breathlessly, while Kyouya seemed absent and Benkei watched him worriedly.

Ryo grunted in frustration. "He's got all his contacts locked."

"What about speed dial? Press 1 and see who the phone calls", Benkei suggested.

"It's probably me."

"I think it's safe to take our chances", Hikaru said sarcastically. So Ryo punched one on the touch pad and held the phone to his ear.

After a few rings, a grainy, accented voice picked up.

"Hey, bud. Whatcha be needin'?"

"I think it's Les", Yuu yelled from the window.

"Uh, actually, this is the director of the Japan branch of the WBBA", Ryo said importantly.

"Oh, it's the chicken man, grandpa. This is Andre Romero. Whatcha doin' wit Tsubasa's phone?"

"I-th-CHICKEN MAN!?" Ryo spluttered indignantly. "What on earth are you talking about!?"

"Dad, you've got more important things to worry about right now", Gingka reminded him.

"Oh. Right. Andre, let me speak to your grandfather."

Miles away, Andre handed the phone to Les.

"Hey, director. Whatche doin' callin' me at midnight?"

"I need you to tell me where Tsubasa is."

"He's findin' himself some wings. Ah plumb don' know where he headed off ta. Ah jus' know he needs it, is all." Les's voice was firm.

"But why did he leave?"

"He din't feel like he knew 'imself no moar. He 'ad ta go an' find 'imself before 'e could find a way back home. Leave 'im be an' he ma come back sooner."

"We all got some flyin' ta do", Andre cut in.

"Yeah. Time ta go, Andre, ta bus's waitin'. We jus' a-leavin' ta Christmas sing-off over here. Catch ya later, chicken man." Les hung up and Ryo set down the phone numbly, staring blankly at the wall across the restaurant.

Then he turned to Hikaru.

"THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"

"Now see here - "

"I know it's not your fault, it's mine; but I NEED SOMEBODY TO BLAME IT ON!"

Everyone in the restaurant turned and stared as the director continued to rant on; and then they turned back to their mid - morning business. They, too, knew that there was no sense in interfering with this incident.


	16. Key of Sea

Track for this chapter:

The red aspens, by Jennifer Thomas, from the album Key of Sea

* * *

Ryo awoke the next morning with with a firm resolve to go back to Beaumont.

"Alright everybody, we're getting back on that plane! Tsubasa needs us more than the New Yorkians do right now!"

But at the prospect of getting on another plane, Kyouya all but threw a temper tantrum.

He stomped a leather-clad foot down on the carpet and refused to get on another plane for the rest of his life.

7 people turned and stared from the confines of the hotel room and Kyouya turned on his heel and, with a lionish scowl, marched away. For once Benkei dared not follow.

* * *

"Maybe the reason people don't come in here is because they'll get food poisoning", Tsubasa suggested to Ethan.

"Yeah, yeah. You're sure cranky this morning." Ethan was swift to bite back.

"Maybe it's cause I spent the entire night on the bench outside this building FREEZING MY HEAD OFF."

"Easy with the bite, snake-boy." Cindy walked in, red hair swinging around her like a tangerine storm cloud. She plopped a backpack on the counter and glared at them both.

"Be quiet. Homeless Boy, you go organise the...doughnuts. Ethan, go in ta kitchen an' try not ta kill yerself in ta process."

Ethan moped back behind the swinging doors to the kitchen and Cindy turned.

"What? Ah told ya to go make yerself useful."

Tsubasa crossed his arms. "I organised the doughnuts yesterday."

"They needs fixin' again."

"Three times. I organised them yesterday THREE TIMES."

"Nah who is ta assis'nt man'ger here?"

"I am!"

"Okay, so manage somet'in!"

"I'm managing YOU. YOU go organise the doughnuts. I get to work the counter today." Tsubasa took Les's signature move and slammed his hands threateningly on the counter. Cindy smacked him in the face with a dishrag and headed towards the doughnuts.

Nobody seemed to be in a very good mood this morning.

3 hours passed uneventfully and Ethan pulled out a brown paper bag from beneath the counter. It was about 11:30 now, and CIndy peeked over his shoulder eagerly to see what gruesome concoction he's brought with him today. "Ethan cooks his own lunch", she informed Tsubasa helpfully.

Tsubasa wrinkled his nose and turned away.

"Ethan, izzat PICKLES on yer peanut butter!?"

"Yeh, ain't ya never heard of it before?"

"Course I have. I was jus' teasin' ya."

Tsubasa seriously considered eating his lunch outside today.

"You should see it when 'e makes ice cream outta it", Cindy said, noticing his longing glances towards the doors. Tsubasa stood and hightailed it out.

* * *

Kyouya stood before an endless sea, staring out as the waves crashed up on the rocks, holding immense power in such a trivial element as water.

One would think that an element showing more brute strength would be earth, while fire would hold a free spirit and a wild tendency to get out of hand. Air held the characteristics of freedom and spirituality.

Yet water seemed to capture the essence of all the elements in one, showing crushing strength on a stormy day such as this, wild fury and unpredictable motions like earth and fire; and yet it also contained freedom in its gleeful spray and spirituality in its calming ripples.

Water was unpredictable, and it was one of the reasons Kyouya did not like it.

Yet the honking cries of the passing boats in the harbour near the rock on which he stood gazing out to the sea held a strange alluring feel to them, like they were calling.

Kyouya didn't aver remember staying in one place for very long; he'd never seen the point of anchoring oneself to a certain thing and forsaking the great adventure and treasure you might be missing whilst you tarried.

Every once in awhile, Kyouya would hear a voice in his head and a sound in his heart, tugging him towards the fastest method of transportation. While Tsubasa went looking for home, all he ever did was leave it. And yet he never had a home to leave at all. Home was where the heart was, and his heart rested with Leone; wherever he went, Leone went also.

A lion's wild free spirit extends to all corners of the earth, you know, and sometimes the cry of the pack is stronger than the cry for adventure; other times the need to run free and unhindered outweighed them all.

_Time to go, Kyouya._

And so he went.

* * *

Tsubasa stood beneath a red tree in the park in Beaumont, wondering if running off had really been worth it.

It was day two, and so far no great realisation had come to him; Beaumont, Texas, seemed to be only another place, another person, and another small town, like all the other places he'd been to in his life.

Get a job, go undercover. Root up the biggest beyblading conspiracy in the town, expose it, fix it.

Move on.

Only now that he wasn't undercover, he didn't know who he was.

He sighed and leaned against the trunk, watching the last three leaves on the branches - clinging from fall - flutter in the cold, cold wind.

He opened the book that Les and Andre had given him with. It fell open to a page he'd not seen before.

_We must let go of the life we have planned, so as to accept the one that is waiting for us._

_-Joseph Campbell _

He slammed the cover shut, frustrated. How did that help him? It was circled in red several times. He tried flipping to other pages, but today he couldn't seem to locate a circled quote he'd not read before.

He folded up his lunch bag, tossed in in a garbage can, and went back the way he had come.

* * *

The position on the floor was familiar to him, his standard for stowaway travel; cross-legged underneath a glowing porthole Kyouya remained safely hidden behind six barrels of fish bound for Indonesia, in no need of a passport or a ticket. This was the way to hightail it.

His canvas bag lay beside him on the floor, sad and lumpy with the years of carrying the odd objects - notebook, rock, extra shirt; pencils, gum, popped balloons.

He lay back against the cold, curved hull of the ship and shut his eyes quietly.

He remembered the first time he'd run away from home. It had been many summers ago; there had been a little orphanage nestled in a valley.

It hadn't been that he hadn't liked it, or that he'd been scared, or that he was bad. He had just seen an advertisement for a tournament on TV and wanted to go.

As he drifted off to sleep, dreams mingled with memory, and he was watching the hills play out before him once again.

He had clutched his beyblade and looked up to the stars, where he knew the constellation of Leone shone bright somewhere, even though it was daytime here. And then he had skipped off down the path.

He remembered thinking about how Miss Noelle had told them never, never to run away from the orphanage; and that if they ever got lost, somebody would come and find them.

But, he had told himself, he was not running away; he was taking a vacation, like Miss Harmony had last year when she had her baby.

And he had sung himself a song to remember it by, that no matter how far he ran, he'd always return:

_Five little ducks went out one day_

_Over the hills, and far away;_

_Mother duck said, 'quack, quack, quack, quack'; _

_But only four of the ducks came back._

_Four little ducks went out one day, over the hills and _

_far away..._

The song went on like this until no ducks were left. Mother Duck went out by herself and then all of her babies returned. He had told himself that, in this manner, so would he, once the tournament was over.

And then he'd forgotten which way was home again.

He smiled to himself in his sleep.

_Five little ducks went out one day_

_Over the hills and far away_

_Everyone has a place to stay_

_But some bear a wand'ring home._


	17. Cascada

Track for this chapter:

Cascada, by Christine Brown, on the album Promise

* * *

He was woken by a rough hand grabbing his collar and yanking him up. Kyouya winced as the grey silky fabric of his vest tore and grabbed his bag as an afterthought, tuning in briefly to the ship security guard's continuous rant.

"...YOU YOUNG HOOLIGANS...ALWAYS SLIPPIN' INTA DA SHIPS..." He sported a thick Brooklyn accent, and Kyouya tuned out again. He didn't know how many times he'd been caught on ships like these, subject to the same such speeches from angry, burly men. It was kind of fun to drive the guards mad, though.

The man tossed Kyouya over the rail into the shallow water near whatever harbour they happened to be at, and Kyouya picked himself up, ran a hand through his hair, grabbed his backpack, and headed off.

It was the way things had always been, after all, so why change it now?

* * *

Tsubasa walked into the store on Monday. Ethan was absent. Hadley leaned listlessly on the counter, chewing on a strand of her short hair. Then Cindy emerged from the kitchen.

"Shouldn't you be at school?" Tsubasa tried to mask his surprise, though honestly he hadn't been looking forward to spending an entire day with only Hadley round for company.

"Ah could ask ya ta same thing, buddy." Cindy turned and straightened her apron in the reflection of the countertop, which Ethan had scrubbed sixty times the other day for lack of anything else to do.

"I'm homeschooled?" Tsubasa tried.

"Nope. Ah met a ton o' homeschooled kids in mah life, an' you don' fit ta bill. Ah ain't gonna question ya 'bout yer personal life", Cindy added, holding her hands up in defence of his growing tension. "Ya got yer own reasons fer bein' here, same as me. An' if ya don' ask me no questions, ah won't either."

Tsubasa slumped with relief. It was hard to explain why he was here; not many came to a small town such as Beaumont looking for a life.

"I do have one question, though. If you aren't at school, why did Quinn say he'd see you at school when he left?"

"Ah guess ye kin say it's a inside joke. We grew up together, an' he's been sayin' it ever since we was little. Ol' habits die hard."

* * *

Kyouya left the ship slightly damp, but none the worse for wear. He walked with a bounce in his step, not missing the smelly freighter at all. There were plenty of other boats in the harbour that would serve his purpose just as well as the rest.

He slipped into one while nobody was looking, this time sufficiently canopied behind several pallets stacked to the bottom of the deck, which loomed high and rustic above him; the bowels of a ship were one of the best places to think.

Stark and undemanding, the curved steel beams rose sharply above him, hitting the deck at a sudden angle cutting steep yards high. Kyouya gazed glassy-eyed at the opposite side of the unpainted hull and thought about the orphanage drowsily, remembering how he'd never fulfilled his self-made promise to return. Someday he'd go back.

* * *

The shop door closed with a soft clang behind him as Hadley exited on his heels.

It had been a long day.

There had been absolutely no customers, and this in itself was tiring; Tsubasa couldn't imagine what he'd have done if the shop had been packed full and wondered how Hadley managed to pay everybody though she made barely any profit.

As he headed to the other side of town in his evening custom of searching for an apartment for a reasonable price, he thought he heard something in the alley nearby.

He peeked stealthily around the corner, feeling almost like he was back on duty again for the WBBA.

A few meters away was a man in a business suit, speaking into an ancient flip phone.

"I left it in the garbage can near that general store today. Don't go there 'til later though - they just hired this new kid who's got secrets in 'is eyes. Yeah. Yeah...yeah, you better pay me soon. Okay. Okay." He shut the phone and Tsubasa ducked into a nearby antique store until the man had passed.

That fedora.

He was certain he'd seen it dropped on the corner of the general store's porch this morning, and by late afternoon it was gone. He'd assumed it had blown away.

By all logic it could have been any fedora blown by a wayward breeze off of its owner's head; except that there was a knot where the ribbon looped around the back of it. A double knot, sticking conspicuously, like a small child had practised its knotting on the ribbon and then its father had placed the ribbon round his hat.

He doubled back to the general store quickly. The garbage cans behind the store were hidden from the view of the street beyond, and he thought he heard something rustle nearby. With light footsteps he paced down the alleyway and opened the garbage cans.

The third one held a battered blue backpack; what could the man have hidden inside it? Coins? Counterfeit money? Fake passports?

Tsubasa unzipped the top zipper and peered inside.

An object tumbled out of the backpack's gaping mouth, wrapped in twine and brown paper like Ethan's lunch always was. Tsubasa tugged at the twine, casting one last self-conscious glance round the alley; paranoia led him to believe that somebody was hiding behind the stacked pallets at the other end.

He tugged open the paper the rest of the way and a small golden statue no longer than 5 inches rolled into his palm.

He gazed at it for a moment; it was a model of a man girded in robes. The diamonds in the eyes looked real enough; he scratched one against the wall of the alley.

Genuine.


	18. Passages

Track for this chapter:

Passages, by Jon Schmidt, from the album A Walk in the Woods

* * *

Tsubasa gazed at the statue in his hand, mouth half-open in shock. Whatever this thing was, it was valuable. And it was stolen.

He turned it over; the base was covered in a soft layer of felt, presumably so it wouldn't scratch up whatever table it happened to be set upon. Doubtless the man with the fedora had chosen this location to hide it because nobody ever ventured this way.

He heard a loose newspaper rustle in the alley behind him, perhaps with the passage of a boot, and turned; nothing was there.

Tsubasa wrapped the statue in the brown paper again and replaced it in the backpack, and then slung the bag over his shoulder and, with a last glance at the other end of the alley, headed the other way.

A police station was not far off, and he made his way towards it quickly.

He opened the door and the sheriff at the desk looked up. "Excuse me young fella, may I help you?" he asked, adjusting his glasses.

"I overheard a phone call near the other side of town and followed the man's instructions to his friend and found this. I believe it was stolen." Tsubasa's words came out in a rush of excitement and he tore open the bundle, laying the statue on the table in the sheriff's office.

"Huh..." The sheriff leaned over the statue scrutinizingly. "Appears ta be valuable, whatever it is." He removed a penknife from his shirt pocket and nicked it across the diamond eye of the figure. "Whoa, yep. This'un's gen-yoo-wine."

He stood with a sigh. "Well, son, ya done a great deed. Thanks fer turnin' this in. Ah'll keep it in mah care nah, thank you very much. An' I'll be takin' the backpack, too, for...uh...inspection", he added. "Gotta go in ta evidence bank."

Tsubasa gladly handed it over and left. But as he lingered in the hall outside, catching his breath from the rush of another solved mystery, he overheard the sheriff speaking in a hushed tone.

"Jerry? Jerry...lissen, you was right 'bout t'at one. He's gotta spy's eye. YOU betcha." He was on the phone. Tsubasa peeked in the door curiously, and then fumbled for his phone before remembering it wasn't there.

He threw open the door just as the sheriff said crossly, "No, ah ain't payin' ya full price! We nearly got caught! You oughta be more careful, Jerry Sanderson!"

Tsubasa pointed an accusing finger and cried out, "I'm placing you under citizen's arrest!"

* * *

The rocking of the boat pressed a slow passage across the relatively calm waters, and Kyouya chanced a peek out the porthole.

It had been a few days now, and they were docking at Nicaragua for awhile and transporting the cargo to another ship by truck. Kyouya figured he may as well follow it; he'd no other plan.

He strolled casually off the docks, with one eye on the barrel he'd marked with a large red triangle. He sneaked into the back of a truck while its owners ate lunch a few yards away, talking frantically about some sport or other; locked in their heated discussion, they didn't notice him slipping into the truck behind the self-same red-marked barrel.

He sank down against the wall and waited as they shut the door of the truck, then dozed in the metal-scented interior while the truck rocked across the country like a land ship.

On journeys like this you tended to sleep a lot. It helped keep your metabolism going on limited supply, and there was no sense wasting your energy in between locations when the hull of a ship or the bottom of a truck could grant you as good a rest as a hotel bed.

* * *

Ryo paced the kitchen, white-faced, while Benkei wailed in another room. "KYOUYA SAN..."

Hikaru shook her head at Gingka, and he replied, "Some vacation this has turned out to be, huh?"

"I wanna go to a theme park!" Yuu demanded, tugging insistently on Madoka's shirt hem. "I'm BOOOOOORED! I wish there was a stadium here..."

Gingka facepalmed. Tsubasa was not here to do it.

"Why would Kyouya leave?" Ryo asked. "More importantly, why would he leave Benkei?"

"I think it's a lion's nature", Madoka said. "You can never expect him to anchor himself to anything."

* * *

_The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round._

_The wheels on the bus go round and round, all through the town..._

Another children's song drifted through his dreams suddenly, and Kyouya jolted awake.

He'd been dreaming of the orphanage again.

He remembered how Noelle had always been there to take care of him and the other kids. He remembered Eric, his best friend in the boys' dorms; but most of all he remembered Mrs. Thornsley, the oldest caretaker and head of the board. She'd been blind at the time he had left, but he had always loved her; she kept cookies in her apron pockets and gave them to the kids between mealtimes.

Mrs. Thornsley had never been strict like the other caretakers, nor had she been careless; she always had an allowance for a little one to get up after bedtime in a thunderstorm or to get a glass of water. In the most violent of storms, she let all the boys in the dorm pile their blankets and pillows on the floor in the playroom and huddle together like a herd of lost sheep, and she would tell them tales of lands far off in her old lady voice until the drifted to sleep.

_Once there was a wizard who lived in a far away land, and he had many visions of a boy named Arthur. This boy Arthur was...about your age, I think, Kyouya._

He had beamed when she'd singled him out from the crowd of boys; he'd been among the crew of the younger kids and swallowed all the attention he could get.

_The wizard's name was Merlin, and he had this dream one night that Arthur would become king. And then the very next day he put a chair under a hole in his roof and told his good pet owl that Arthur himself would be droppin' in that day._

_Then Arthur went after a fallen arrow and busted himself right through the roof of Merlin's home; the hole got wider and Merlin knew the next time it rained the whole house would get wet. But he din't mind because Arthur was the future king, after all, and he deserved a seat whether or not he'd made a hole in the roof bigger by doing it._

_And then - _

She had scooped up Eric on her lap at this part, and continued.

_And then the wizard and the scrawny little boy had tea right there with the owl, and Merlin told him he had to come home with him to help him become king._

_Arthur din't believe at first that what Merlin was saying could ever be true, because it was completely preposterous. He was only a little boy._

_"Mrs Thornsley - "_ He heard his own voice pipe up. _"Mrs. Thornsley, why can't little boys be kings too?"_

_"Now, dear, back in those times only great knights and burly men could be kings. It's because people dwell on what's outside and not in the heart, where it matters most. That's why so many evil kings got crowned back in those days."_

_"Could I be a king?" This was Eric._

_"Of course you could. Any one of you could. You've got bigger hearts'n most adults, you know. You'd be caring and compassionate._

_But what kings also need is advisors, because little boys can't manage the funds and the wars on their own. So Merlin accompanied Arthur back to the castle."_

_"What does accompanied mean, Mrs. Thornsley?"_

_"He went with him, dear._

_Arthur was adopted, just like all of you will be someday. But his father and brother were not very nice. And so they gave Merlin a tower with a leaky roof and little space to stay in._

_Merlin was not happy._

_But he stuck by Arthur like he said he always would. He taught Arthur how to read and write, because only rich people learned that in those days, and if Arthur was to be a king, he needed to know all he could ever know._

_One day Arthur came running, so happy, because his brother Kay had granted him a place as his squire at the joust soon. His other squire had got the mumps. Now, now, before you ask, dear, a squire was who helped the knights with all their armour and handed them things when they needed it._

_So they got to the joust; Merlin was not pleased and went away because he wanted Arthur to try to be more than a squire, but Arthur was too happy to see what Merlin wanted._

_Then the foolish little boy realised that he'd forgotten to bring Kay's sword, and the inn at which they were staying for the tournament was closed; what was the boy to do? Until, passing a little fenced-in yard covered in snow, Arthur found the sword in the stone._

_It had been placed there a long time ago by faerie magic, to show the one true king. Even the strongest men could not remove it from the great stone in which it was placed. But Arthur had no other choice. He could at least say he had tried._

_And so he pulled with all his might, yet the sword slid out easily!_

_At first nobody believed the boy, but finally they came around. Arthur was placed in the palace as the king._

_Then Merlin returned to advise him in his ruling time and at last all was as it should have been in the beginning._

All the other little boys in the room had drifted off to sleep. Mrs. Thornsley lay Eric down in the little nest of blankets and pillows. Only Kyouya's sharp green eyes had pierced the darkness, and even in her blindness, she could sense his concern.

_"Kyouya, dear, whatever is the matter? Why are you not asleep?"_

_"Mrs. Thornsley, what if I get adopted by mean people like Arthur did?"_

She had leaned over him with a smile on her face.

_"No matter what happens, dear, always remember that Arthur was able to rise to claim the throne in spite of his small size and unsupportive family. You'll always have the strength in your heart; I know you will."_

Mrs. Thornsley patted his head and left the room.

Those were words to live by, and he had done so ever since.


End file.
